


only you

by melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme



Series: sometimes love doesn't feel like it should [2]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dear John Letter, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Couple, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme/pseuds/melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme
Summary: Their wedding picture.He stalks over to it, his frown becoming even more pronounced when he sees that the picture of them getting married isn’t in its frame. He picks it up - and when he sees a shiny piece of metal catching the light, along with a small piece of paper under it, his confusion intensifies and he picks both of them up, weighing the ring in his hands as his eyes trace over the paper with Alex’s neat handwriting.Her wedding ring. She left her wedding ring at home. What exactly is going on?
Relationships: Alex Kingston/Matt Smith
Series: sometimes love doesn't feel like it should [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014567
Comments: 22
Kudos: 46





	1. it was like shooting a sitting duck

**Author's Note:**

> idk why the chapter titles are all ABBA songs i just feel that way right now

It’s stressful. He’s stressed, and she knows that. It’s the biggest role he’s had since Who and he wants so badly for it to work out - they both do. It’s his next big break.   
  
She understands that he’s under a lot of pressure, and he’s probably busy and working. Honestly, she does. What she doesn’t understand is how it’s so bloody difficult to text back a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. How much time could that possibly take?   
  
She just wants to know if he’ll be home for dinner. So she’ll know how much to cook. She doesn’t want to assume, even though for the past two weeks her husband has been eating outside and coming home late - what if, today, he comes home hungry and tired, and there isn’t any food left? Really, he ought to tell her these things.    
  
Four hours and he still hasn’t texted back. If she doesn’t start cooking now, dinner won’t be ready on time - just in case he  _ does _ come home on time.    
  
She tosses her phone aside with a sigh and starts preparing dinner.    
  
It’s past midnight by the time he comes home. She falls asleep on the couch while waiting, the pot in the kitchen still full. It’s been over two weeks since they’ve had a meal together and she doesn’t like it one bit.    
  
“Darling?” She calls out, her voice heavy with sleep. “What time is it?”   
  
“Half past 12,” he says, stepping out of his shoes in the hallway and coming into her line of vision. “Why are you sleeping out here?”   
  
“I was waiting for you to eat dinner. Must’ve fallen asleep.” She smiles weakly at him, yawning tiredly. “How was work?”   
  
“Tiring,” he says with a heavy sigh, before he smiles guiltily at her. “I’ve already eaten, but I can sit with you if you want me to.”   
  
Her eyes travel over his form - his shoulders hunched from exhaustion and his skin pale from all the long hours. His eyes are droopy and red and the smile on his face looks forced, as if that simple action had taken so much energy out of him.    
  
“Maybe tomorrow, darling.” She says, trying not to let her heart ache or her mind stray when he seems entirely too relieved with her answer. “You must be exhausted. Let’s get you to bed.”   
  
She stands and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together tightly as she leads them upstairs. She helps him undress to his boxers and he lets her take control, lifting his limbs as needed. Soon, she’s stroking his hair fondly as he tucks himself to bed.    
  
“I don’t deserve you, wife.” He mutters sleepily, his eyes blinking up at her blearily. She laughs and he smiles up at her, holding her hand in his. “I promise I’ll try to be home to eat with you. I know we haven’t had a meal together in a long time, love, and I’m sorry about that. But I’ll try tomorrow. I’ll be home tomorrow to eat with you, okay? I promise.”   
  
“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” She whispers, kissing his cheek softly.   
  
“We’ll eat together tomorrow.” He promises again, pressing a kiss to her hand.   
  
He doesn’t let go until she nods, then he sighs contentedly, turns over, and falls asleep. Her heart melts at the thought that he’s making an effort for her. Making a promise to her.   
  
Her heart sinks when he breaks it.    
  
*   
  
Alex waits for Matt at a nearby Indian restaurant. It’s their own little ritual since they moved to LA - every Wednesday night, they meet at various restaurants across town. Always after work for him and always after yoga class for her. It’s a nice thing to share with her husband, who’s been so busy at work lately that he really only goes home to sleep.    
  
It’s the closest to date night that Alex can get while he’s still working on that TV show. She loves it, these few quiet hours outside as a couple, chatting normally. It feels intimate, these things they have that’s special and just theirs. It’s close to her heart, a chance to connect with her husband after a full week of non-stop working, and she wouldn’t give it up for the world.   
  
She orders for both of them, knowing his order by heart already, and waits in the corner of the quaint little restaurant in the corner of the street. She watches the windows anxiously, looking up every time someone walks past. She checks her phone periodically, waiting for a call or text from Matt to update her about his whereabouts but there isn’t anything yet.   
  
The food arrives half an hour later but Matt still hasn’t. Alex is just worried that something happened to him - this is LA, after all. She leaves him a couple of texts and tries calling his phone but he doesn’t reply and his calls go straight to voicemail. She frowns at her phone, wondering if she should call someone from his workplace to check and see if he’s maybe just running a little late.   
  
He hasn’t ever been more than fifteen minutes late, no matter the occasion. He certainly hasn’t ever been more than an hour late, like he is now. Alex wonders if maybe he’s forgotten about their meeting - it’s bound to happen, he’s been so tired and focused on work lately. But even so, she wonders why he hadn’t bothered to check his phone or call her back. It certainly isn’t like him to ignore texts and calls from her.   
  
She’s still hesitating over calling someone from his studio when the door to the restaurant opens and she immediately hears Matt before she sees him, rushing over to her while apologising profusely.    
  
“I’m so sorry, Alex, I  _ completely _ forgot about today and I was halfway home before I realised we were supposed to meet over here and we ended later than usual - not the  _ usual _ later than usual, we ended later than later than usual - and by then I was so focused on going home and I wanted to call you but my phone died, so I -” Matt rambles, and he looks so frazzled that Alex can’t help but take pity on him.   
  
“Darling, take a deep breath and drink some water, there you go,” she says, just a tad amused.    
  
He takes a grateful gulp and sighs, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “I was so afraid that you’d be angry with me.”   
  
“I wasn’t angry,” she assures him. “I was a tad bit worried, though. I thought something happened to you.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, softer this time. “The writers added a new scene to the script and we spent hours in rehearsal. By the time we were done I just wanted to be home.”   
  
“We can take all this to go if you want,” she offers, gesturing at the food.   
  
Matt shakes his head. “No, I wanted to be home so I could spend more time with you. But you’re here so,” he shrugs and smiles, picking up his fork and spoon. “You’re the best, Alex. Thank you for ordering and waiting.”   
  
He fixes her with loving eyes and she watches as he eats with the enthusiasm of a child, occasionally feeding her a bite of his meal and trying to steal from her plate. It’s simple and pleasant, and at the end of the night Alex forgets that Matt showed up an hour later than promised.    
  
Later that night, as they’re both getting dressed for bed, Matt sidles up behind her and presses a sweet kiss behind her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist. She’s still removing her jewellery, but she feels him staring at her so she looks into her vanity mirror, fixing him with a questioning gaze.   
  
“I’m going to be a little busier over the next few months. I’ll be tired and grumpy and forgetful.” He smiles at her reflection, his cheeks slightly red as he hugs her a little tighter. “And I may not have a lot of time to spend with you, no matter how much I want to be with you.”   
  
“Why are you telling me this?” She asks softly, frowning.    
  
“Because,” he sighs, moving a little to the side so he can look her in the eyes. He smiles tenderly, stroking her cheek as he says, “I want you to know that all that - it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I do. Very, very much.” He tells her seriously.   
  
“I know,” she says, smiling and leaning into his touch. She turns her head slightly and presses a kiss to his palm. “I do too. Very, very much. Always.”   
  
He smiles. “I don’t deserve you, Kingston.”   
  
“No,” she says softly, as she watches him climb into their bed. He doesn’t hear her. She thinks about all the things he does deserve, all the things she can’t ever give him. He doesn’t deserve her at all. “You deserve better.”   
  
*   
  
Alex sighs as she stares at the screen of her phone, waiting for a notification to pop up. He’s done it again. This is the fifth Wednesday in a row that he hasn’t shown, and this time he hadn’t even bothered to call or text to tell her he won’t be coming.   
  
She tells the waiter to pack the food - Italian this time - and she pays, leaving the restaurant and hailing a cab, not at all looking forward to the conversation she’s about to have with Matt.   
  
He’d been right to warn her about his sudden change in attitude six weeks ago. Ever since he got the part all he can focus on is making it big, making a name for himself, awards, fancy parties, the whole package. She hasn’t ever fancied that lifestyle, not when her brief taste of it twenty years ago ended in heartbreak.    
  
He’s changed. All the things he used to care about are sitting in the backseat while his work takes precedence and Alex would be lying if she said that doesn’t make her a teensy bit anxious. Because she’s seen this before.    
  
Regardless, she loves him. And if he needs her to play the part of a loving, supportive wife then she certainly will be able to. Again. She just hopes it doesn’t the way her last two attempts did.   
  
Still, being loving and supportive doesn’t mean she can’t get angry once in a while. And today, she is positively seething as she gets out of the cab and sees his car parked in the driveway. Her lips curl unpleasantly.   
  
She’s spent forty-five minutes in the backseat of a taxi, trying to come up with excuses for him - but he’s home. Which means he just couldn’t be bothered to check his phone, or he did, and he just couldn’t be bothered to call her.    
  
She unlocks the front door, and the flame of her fury is stoked when she hears the television playing a soccer match. She kicks off her shoes and heads directly for the kitchen, ignoring Matt when he calls out, “How was your day, sweetheart?”   
  
She eats dinner in the kitchen, still seething in silence as she hears Matt cheer when his team scores a goal. He doesn’t even know what he missed. How wonderful.   
  
“Alex?” Matt asks, wandering into the kitchen ten minutes later. He takes a seat opposite her but she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, looking down at her plate of pasta. “How was your day?”   
  
She takes her time, twirling her pasta around her fork and pushing it slowly into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.   
  
“Do you know,” she starts slowly, putting down her fork and looking straight at him. “Where I have been for the past few hours, Matt?”   
  
“How should I know? I was at work.” He says, shrugging.   
  
“Right. Well, I was at a lovely Italian restaurant by my yoga class. You know, the new one that opened a few weeks ago?” She says, watching as realisation slowly dawns on his face. She tells him, her voice a little colder, “It’s  _ Wednesday _ , Matthew. The fifth one in a row that you have forgotten.”   
  
“Oh my God,” he starts, slapping his hand to his forehead. “I am so sorry, Alex, I swear, I didn’t even  _ realise _ that today was -”   
  
“Honestly, I’ve been stood up on dates many times but even my previous husbands had the decency to call -”   
  
“Alex,  _ please _ , I -”   
  
“I hate it, Matt. I hate waiting at a different restaurant every week, having eyes on me after an hour of waiting, having  _ pity glances _ each time I check my phone and put it back down again. I hate that the ring on my finger just makes me more  _ pitiful _ , and I hate that I order for two even though there’s no chance of you showing up.” She takes in a deep breath, her eyes red and her fists clenched. She’s all fired up and she can tell that Matt is just waiting to get his say, so she finishes, a little softer, “I hate it all. I’m not going to spend my time waiting around only for you to never show.”   
  
“Look, Alex,” he sighs, swallowing a little as he looks at her. “I - I really did forget. I’m so sorry, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Next Wednesday, we’ll -”   
  
“No.” She shakes her head. “No, no more Wednesdays. I’m not wasting any more of my time.”   
  
She ignores the crestfallen look on his face the same way she ignores the pain of the mere thought that their one, special thing that they have together as a married couple has ended. The Wednesday dinners were the only time they could actually, properly talk, what with Matt’s work and social gatherings. It was a time for them to just  _ connect _ . But Matt hasn’t shown for five weeks, and she hasn’t  _ talked _ to him in that amount of time either - what use was their Wednesday dinners if he kept missing them?   
  
“Date night, then.” He says, after a few moments of plain staring. “The next day I get off early, we’ll go then. I swear. I’m so sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to forget.”   
  
She shrugs, putting her dishes in the sink and walking past him. “I’m used to being forgotten.”   
  
“What?” Matt asks in disbelief, going after her. “What the hell does that mean? I’ve never forgotten you, Alex, I - I just got distracted by work and I -”   
  
“Exactly!” Alex shouts, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. “You got so distracted that you forgot. Five weeks in a row.”   
  
“That doesn’t mean I forgot  _ you _ !” He shouts back.   
  
“Then tell me, Matthew, what the hell does that mean?” She asks, stopping in the middle of the stairwell and looking down at him with hard eyes and pursed lips.   
  
“It means what I  _ told _ you it means six weeks ago! That I’ll be tired, grumpy and  _ forgetful _ ! Did you not get that last bit?” He reminds her, his eyes wide.   
  
“Once, twice, and even three times can be considered forgetting, Matthew.” Alex bites out. “Five times is  _ forgotten _ .”   
  
She turns around and climbs the rest of the steps without waiting for a reply, but that doesn’t matter because Matt is following closely, shouting at her back.    
  
“I’m sorry, Alex! I’m distracted by work and I know I haven’t been paying much attention to you.” He says, climbing the stairs faster and blocking her way to the bedroom. “I love you. You know how much effort and commitment is put into our jobs and sometimes we just can’t help it. I can’t help the things I forget. I’m sorry, I really am. And I love you. Will you please let me make it up to you?”   
  
He reaches for her hands and presses his lips to her fingers gently, his eyes never leaving hers. She feels herself soften slowly and she really should worry about the way this man can disarm her so easily but she can see how sincere he is, how much it really means to him.   
  
“Alright,” she says finally.   
  
He smiles and pulls her closer, cradling her face in his hands. His thumb moves over her lips slowly, as she lets herself melt into his touch and his warm gaze.   
  
“I love you,” he tells her. “No matter what I do that might say otherwise, I - I love you, Kingston. Always.”   
  
“I know,” her hands travel under his shirt, feeling soft skin she hasn’t touched in ages, and she tilts her head up at him as she whispers, “Getting used to you being gone so often is harder than I thought.”   
  
“I know, same here. Just a few more months, okay?” He says, stroking her cheeks gently as he feels her warm arms wrapping around his torso. “Just a while more, then I’m all yours.”   
  
She nods, sighing as she stands on tiptoe. “I love you,” she whispers, before she presses her lips to his and kisses him slowly, the way she hasn’t had the chance to in months. She misses this part, the physical intimacy they shared when they had the time and luxury. She can’t remember the last time she made out with her husband.    
  
They break apart after a few moments, panting lightly. He rests his forehead against hers, sighing and shutting her eyes. “I hate it when we fight.” He says softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.   
  
“I hate it too,” she whispers back, before adding as an afterthought, “Though I hate it even more when the neighbours ask if you’re leaving every time we fight.”   
  
“What? They do that?” He asks, wide eyed with disbelief. She nods, a small laugh escaping her lips before it turns into a squeal as he picks her up easily and wraps her legs around his waist. He carries her to their bedroom, kissing her passionately as he kicks the door shut behind him and pushes her up against it. “Well then, better erase those very kind doubts off our neighbours’ minds, don’t you think?”   
  
Alex makes sure to be just a tiny bit more vocal that night, lest their neighbours think they’re still fighting.

*****

  
“I know, I know, I’m late! I’m sorry, I’m here now.” Matt says as he takes his seat opposite Alex.   
  
Alex shrugs. “At least you texted this time.” She reaches for the complimentary bread that the restaurant provides and tears off a chunk, popping it into her mouth. “What kept you?”   
  
“Had to keep retaking a scene, we kept messing up,” he sighs, before shaking his head determinedly. “No work talk. Tonight it’s all about family.” He smiles, reaching for the bread too. “How’s Salome?”   
  
“She’s good. Florian’s keeping her for the rest of the summer break, though.” Alex doesn’t say anything else besides that, chewing slowly and keeping her eyes on the table.   
  
Matt frowns. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”   
  
“Nothing, Matthew,” she says calmly, propping open the menu and looking through it. She doesn’t even look at him. “I’m just hungry.”   
  
“Right, of course,” Matt says, still frowning. He’s almost positive that Alex is angry at him, but he can’t be sure. “Hey, if it’s because I’m late then I really am sorry. But at least I’m here, right? That’s got to be an improvement from the last few times.”   
  
Alex smiles tightly at her menu. “Let’s just order something, I’m starving.”   
  
Matt stares at her for a few moments, trying to read her expression but she doesn’t give anything away. She stares, straight-faced, into the menu and she doesn’t spare him even a glance. He sighs and signals the waiters to take their order.   
  
They’re halfway into the most uncomfortable dinner he’s ever had with his wife. Alex doesn’t speak, and she responds to all his questions with monosyllabic answers. He has no idea what’s going on, all he knows is that he doesn’t want date night with his wife to be spent in tense silence.   
  
He puts his fork down and clears his throat. “Alex, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?”   
  
She stabs at her food with her fork. “Why should I tell you anything if you won’t tell me anything?”   
  
“What?” He asks, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”   
  
“I got a call from your agent last night. Daniel.” She says, finally looking at him. She stares, her green eyes piercing into his in a way he hasn’t seen before. “He asked me to convince you to work on a miniseries that you were offered to  _ months _ ago. I had no idea what he was talking about, Matthew, but he was going on and on about how important this opportunity is for your career, how it could change everything, while I - your  _ wife _ \- had to just pretend that I knew what the bloody hell he was talking about.” She leans over the table and whispers loudly, just in case anyone overhears her. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this, Matt?”   
  
Matt sighs and leans back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “I am going to kill Daniel.”   
  
Alex raises an eyebrow. “Really? Is that all you have to say?”   
  
“No! No, of course not. I - it’s complicated, Alex, and I wasn’t interested in the project at all - ”   
  
“Really? Because Daniel slipped the premise and it seems right up your alley.”   
  
“I’d have to film in Scotland, then in Ireland, for three months each.” He tells her, leaning over the table and looking at her with pleading eyes. He so wants her to understand. “I didn’t want it because I’ve just gotten used to LA and on top of that, we’ve been readjusting.”   
  
“Matt, we’ve been married for over two years. We’re well past the readjusting stage.” She argues back.   
  
“You just told me two weeks ago that you’re still getting used to not having me around all the time,” he points out. “You think it won’t be the same for me? Look,” he sighs, “I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you’d tell me to choose what’s best for my career even if it means having to spend six months apart. But I’m not interested, alright? We did that whole ‘months apart’ thing while we were dating. I was hoping we could leave that part behind when we got married.”   
  
Alex opens her mouth to reply but she’s interrupted by the shrill ringing of Matt’s phone, and Matt looks at her guiltily.    
  
“I’ve got to take this.” He says apologetically. “But we’re not done talking yet.”   
  
Alex continues her meal as he talks on the phone, trying not to think about what he’s doing. He’s just too damn confusing. Hadn’t this whole thing been about advancing his career? How is he supposed to do that if he isn’t willing to take the best opportunities for him to do so?   
  
He hangs up the phone and sighs in frustration. “I’ve got to go back to the studio.”   
  
Alex waves a hand. “It’s fine. Just go.”   
  
“Let me drive you home first,” he offers. “We can talk in the car.”   
  
“Are you sure you have time for that?” She asks sceptically. He doesn’t reply, just offers his hand to her and raises his eyebrows expectantly.    
  
He doesn’t waste time. As soon as he starts the car, he starts talking as well.   
  
“I am not spending six months away from you. It’s not worth it.” He says firmly, keeping his eyes on the road.   
  
Alex turns to him, a look of clear disbelief and disapproval on her face. “This job is everything you want, Matthew, and don’t you lie to me. It’ll fast track your career in Hollywood - isn’t that what you’ve been working for?”   
  
“No, it isn’t.” He insists. Alex makes a noise of frustration in the back of her throat, facing the road again. “Not if it means having to spend half a year in the woods without my wife!”   
  
“You can’t plan around me, Matthew. It doesn’t work that way.” She says, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. You want to be successful. You want to be one of the big names in the industry and this will help you get that.”   
  
“I told you, Alex,” he says, a little exasperation lining his tone now, “I am not taking the job because I do not want it. There are plenty of opportunities out there that can help me get what I want without having to leave LA - without having to leave  _ you _ .”   
  
“You don’t know that. You’re making a mistake.” She tells him stubbornly, folding her arms.    
  
“Okay then, let’s say I  _ do _ take this job. What then?” He asks, “We spend half a year apart, everything changes between us and we won’t be able to deal with that. I’m sorry, Alex, I don’t want to take that risk. I haven’t even scratched the surface of the amount of time I want to spend with you. No, I can’t do it. I’m not taking the job and that’s final, Alex.”   
  
She stays silent but he can still feel her disapproval radiating off her, and as the silence stretches in the car he thinks that he really ought to speak to Daniel about the things he tells Alex. Out of the corner of his eye he can see that she’s pursing her lips, her nostrils flared and he knows she won’t be letting this go anytime soon.    
  
Neither her eyes nor her posture softens as he pulls into their driveway half an hour later, and she doesn’t say anything as she gets out of the car.    
  
“Alex, wait!” He calls, undoing his seatbelt and getting out of the car too.    
  
She stops midway to their front door, turning around and folding her arms, still looking at him with the same hard glare. He sighs heavily, cupping her neck gently with his hands and leaning in to kiss her cheek softly. She feels her defenses melting quickly as his lips brush over her skin, relaxing her shoulders and softening her gaze as he pulls away slowly and looks into her eyes. She looks down, not wanting him to see the tears clouding her eyes at the way he’s looking at her.    
  
“I just want what’s best for you,” she whispers shakily, blinking hard to prevent the tears in her eyes from escaping. His answering smile is soft and loving as he presses a kiss to the tip of her nose.    
  
“I know you do,” he says quietly, looking at her as sincerely as he can before he continues, “but what’s best for me is staying here. With you.” He tells her, as she reaches one hand up to hold his wrist. He shakes his head. “I don’t want to spend our fifth anniversary apart. I’ve got very special plans for that night and none of them involve being on a flight and getting ready to spend six months away from you.” He tilts his head and smirks as he adds, “Though those plans  _ do _ include something being delayed.”   
  
She sniffles softly, letting out a quiet laugh. “I hate you.”   
  
“I love you.” He replies.   
  
“Always.” She smiles.   
  
She goes to sleep that night, her body still tense and uneasy even after clearing the air with Matt. She stares at the dim light of the lamp illuminating their bedroom, licking her lips slowly as she thinks about what would happen if Matt did take the job - how everything would change between them, after being out of contact for six months. She’s sure not seeing Matt for that long would be difficult for her, and six months is a really long time - long enough for people to change. She doesn’t want anything between them to change, not like that.    
  
On the other hand, if he didn’t take the job - as he so insists now - she doesn’t want to think about the consequences for that, either. She doesn’t want him to put her above his career, not when she knows it could lead to resentment in the future. She doesn’t want to be the person that held him back when he had the chance to succeed. She doesn’t want him to look back, decades from now, and regret not taking the job. Regret not taking the opportunity when he had it.    
  
Regret choosing  _ her _ .   
  
*   
  
Alex can’t remember the last time Karen, Arthur, Matt and her were all in the same room together. It feels like it’s been so long since the whole family got together that she doesn’t even hesitate when Arthur invites her and Matt to lunch with both him and Karen. She texts back an excited ‘yes!’ and informs Matt of their plans. Matt seems equally excited at the prospect of having all of Team Tardis back again.    
  
They meet for lunch at an expensive, fancy restaurant - Karen’s choice, of course. When Alex arrives Karen and Arthur are both already there, chatting merrily. Karen spots her first, immediately jumping up and enveloping her in a bear hug, gripping tightly and leaving bruises. Arthur is much gentler, hugging lightly and placing a chaste kiss on Alex’s cheek.   
  
“So,” Karen practically bounces as she speaks. “Where’s your other half?”   
  
“Matt had a last minute meeting with his agent. His TV show wrapped a few days ago so I think they’re finding something new for him to work on.” Alex tells him. “So what’s going on with you guys?”   
  
Time flies whenever she sees Karen and Arthur. So much so that she doesn’t even realise a whole hour has gone by and Matt still hasn’t shown up yet, until Arthur brings it up.   
  
She sends a quick text to Matt to ask him about his whereabouts and she gets a reply five minutes later. Alex purses her lips as she stares at the message, before smiling apologetically at Karen and Arthur.   
  
“That was Matt. He says he won’t be able to make it today. He got a last minute audition and the producer’s only in town for a day.” Alex says, looking at them apologetically.   
  
“Bummer,” Karen says, pouting a little and casting a glance at Arthur, who looks very disappointed. “We were really hoping to catch up with that stupidface.”   
  
“Yeah well,” Alex mutters, popping a cheese stick into her mouth, “get in line.”   
  
Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”   
  
“What? Oh, nothing. I’m just being dramatic. You know me,” Alex says, laughing a little uneasily. Her friends are looking at her with an identical look of concern and it makes her feel like she’s being examined or scrutinised - she doesn’t like it one bit.   
  
“Alex?” Karen says, her eyes wide. “Tell mummy and daddy what’s wrong.”   
  
“Nothing’s wrong. Stop being ridiculous,” Alex says, laughing and waving the matter off. “What were you saying about working on a superhero movie?”   
  
“Don’t change the subject, I saw the way you looked at your phone when you got that text from Matt,” Arthur says, leaning his elbows on the table and linking his fingers together, looking at Alex seriously. “Trouble in paradise, daughter dearest?”   
  
Alex sighs in defeat and rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath about meddling friends. “Okay. So, this may not be the first time Matt has had to skip lunches or dates because of work.”   
  
Arthur and Karen exchange identical looks of incredulity and Alex instantly knows that she’ll need to explain herself better to her friends to get them to see her side of things.    
  
“Okay, but Alex,” Karen says, frowning in concern. “You know how this job can be. We hardly have time for personal lives - Lord knows how Matt is having time juggling work and your marriage.”   
  
Alex sighs. “I know. That’s exactly why it feels so ridiculous. But Matt doesn’t just skip dates. He forgets them. He leaves me in the restaurant for hours and doesn’t even call. He’s done it more than five times already. And then I find out he hasn’t been telling me about job opportunities and - and everything just feels too familiar, you know? And not in a good way.” She confides, feeling the tension release from her shoulders the longer she talks.   
  
“First or second?” Arthur asks.   
  
Alex bites her lip. “First,” she admits, and the gasp from Karen and the way Arthur shakes his head in disbelief tells her what they think about the entire situation. “I know. I know how it sounds but I can’t - I can’t help it, it just keeps popping up in my head.”   
  
“Matt is not that type of person, Alex.” Arthur says firmly.   
  
“No one ever is, until they are.” Alex says softly. She sighs heavily, closing her eyes. “Look, I’m not saying that Matt is cheating on me. I’m saying that the way he treats things, date nights, how he explains it all off - it’s just awfully familiar. And I can’t help but think that maybe, given the right timing and -  _ person _ \- I don’t know,” Alex shrugs, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers. “It could happen.”   
  
“Okay, well - what about sex? Are you guys still having sex?” Arthur asks, and Karen hits him on the shoulder. “Ow! What? It’s a legitimate question!”   
  
“Once every few weeks,” Alex shrugs again. “Everything slowed down when Matt started work on that TV show.”   
  
“Matt would never cheat on you, Alex!” Karen exclaims. “He loves you. A blind idiot could see that.”   
  
“Does he  _ tell _ you that he loves you?” Arthur asks.   
  
“Occasionally. Usually when he’s done something stupid to make me angry and he wants to apologise for it.”   
  
“That’s better than nothing, right?” Karen says optimistically.   
  
“It’s what the first one used to do when he fucked up, too.” Alex tells them heavily. “Why do you think I stayed so long?”   
  
“No. I’m sorry, Alex, but this is ridiculous.” Karen says, throwing her hands in the air in frustration and looking at Alex incredulously. “When we were working on Who and you were gone, he couldn’t shut up about you. When you got engaged he literally couldn’t wait to tell us - he called me in the middle of the night, Alex. When we saw him in his hotel room before the wedding he was so excited and happy. He  _ cried _ when he said his vows. You can’t believe he doesn’t love you, Alex.”   
  
“I don’t know, Karen,” Alex sighs. “I really don’t know.”   
  
“I think,” Arthur says calmly, looking between the two women. “We just need to calm ourselves down for a moment.” He turns to Alex. “Do you really think that Matt is cheating on you? Because it just sounds to me like Matt is really busy these few months. Do you think that maybe you’re thinking about it too much?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Alex repeats, completely honestly. She puts her head in her hands. This entire conversation is giving her a headache, though she does feel some kind of relief that she can finally tell someone how she’s been feeling for months. “I just know the facts and maybe he is. Or maybe he isn’t.”   
  
“I’ve known Matt a long time,” Arthur says, “He’d never stay unless he wants to. And he’d never hurt you, Alex, not like that. He’s an idiot but he’s not an arse.”   
  
“And you love him, don’t you?” Karen asks.   
  
“Of course I do,” Alex says. That is definitely something she knows - how much she loves Matthew Smith. She also knows one other thing - “I’d never stay if I didn’t.”   
  
*   
  
She goes back home that day with a little weight off her shoulders. Her talk with Karen and Arthur has cleared up the fog and she feels like she can finally see clearly again - of course Matt isn’t cheating on her. He would never do that to anyone, let alone his wife. He isn’t Florian, and he certainly isn’t Ralph.    
  
She feels a little less stressed and a little more embarrassed at how she’s treated the entire situation. Matt doesn’t deserve to be put under pressure to be a perfect husband, not with everything that’s going on in his career right now. He especially doesn’t deserve to be put under pressure by someone who swore she would support him through anything, and along with feeling embarrassed, she feels guilty, too. She was irrational and unreasonable and Matt had to deal with her constantly starting fights with him, on top of everything else.    
  
She’d forgotten what it was like to be busy - she’d forgotten so completely that she allowed her imagination to take flight, to put Matt in a light she hasn’t seen in twenty years. If she continues this, she might actually lose Matt, and that is something she cannot let happen.   
  
So she decided, after lunch, that she needs to be busy too. She needs to go back to acting, find some work and keep herself occupied to remind herself that being an actor isn’t easy - it isn’t something that has a fixed amount of hours nailed to it. Actors work long hours, day and night, and sometimes they’re lucky to get sleep, let alone make it home to their spouses.   
  
He comes home nearing dinnertime, and Alex looks up from the TV with a smile on her face.   
  
“I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.” Alex says. “I didn’t cook today.”   
  
“That’s alright, we can order takeout.” Matt says, kicking off his shoes and removing his socks. He disappears up the staircase for a few minutes and reappears wearing a shirt and boxers, settling beside Alex and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.   
  
“How was your audition?” Alex asks, turning to him. “And what was it for?”   
  
“It’s a rom-com,” he tells her, already smiling excitedly. “I thought I did okay, and apparently the producers thought so too, because I got cast!”   
  
“What?” Alex says in delighted disbelief. “So quickly? No callbacks or anything?”   
  
“I don’t know. Must’ve gotten lucky, I guess.” Matt shrugs.    
  
“No. They knew what they wanted and they saw it in you,” Alex smiles brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “Congratulations, darling. What’s it about?”   
  
“Well I don’t really have all the details yet,” he says, still with that bubbly excitement that Alex adores, “but I’m playing Harry Renier, a businessman who has to convince rich heiress Veronica Sherwood to invest in his business or he loses it.”   
  
“Oh, it’s a  _ classic _ .” Alex says.   
  
“Sherwood’s father used to be in business with Renier, but he scammed my character out of money, and that’s why his business is failing.” He tells her.   
  
“Sounds great, darling.” She says.   
  
“It is,” he agrees. “But I’ve been told a spoiler by the producers - there’s a steamy, sexy scene against the wall.”   
  
Alex gasps. “Matthew Smith, your first Hollywood love scene? My, my, you’re all grown up now.”   
  
He pinches her side for teasing him and she squeals, but he shakes his head. “Well - no, not exactly. Neither of us will be naked or topless. There’ll just be passionate kissing and wandering hands.”   
  
“ _ Raunchy _ ,” Alex teases again, letting her head fall down on his shoulder. “Lucky girl, whoever she is. When do you start?”   
  
“In a few weeks. They’ll call again with more details.”   
  
“Well, congratulations,” Alex says sincerely, smiling up at him. “I can’t think of one person who deserves this more than you do.”   
  
He sighs happily, staring down into her eyes. “I love you.”   
  
“I love you too.” Alex says, snuggling into his side. “I’ve got news too. After lunch today I thought about going back to acting again.”   
  
“Really?” He asks delightedly, looking at her in surprise.    
  
“Mmhmm,” she nods, her voice slightly muffled by his shirt as she continues, “I need something to do with all my time here and I quite miss acting.”   
  
“That’s fantastic, sweetheart,” Matt says quietly. He pulls her in tighter against him. “I’m glad you’re going to work again. Have you called your agent yet?”   
  
She shakes her head. “I wanted you to be the first to know. I’ll call her tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”   
  
“Hey,” he says, even quieter. She senses that something is wrong and she pulls away, a small crease in her forehead as she looks at him. Maybe going back to work isn’t such a good idea after all? “I’m really sorry about this afternoon. I know I promised I’d come and I broke it, but I -”   
  
Her frown disappears and she pats his cheek reassuringly as she says, “It’s okay, darling, I understand.”    
  
The way his eyebrows raise in surprise as if he can’t believe he’s been let off the hook so easily only makes her feel guiltier. “You do?”   
  
“Yes,” she says, leaning in to give him a light peck on his lips. “You’re a busy man.”   
  
He smiles brightly at her. “I love you so much, Kingston.”   
  
“I love you too, darling.” She smiles up at him. She puts an arm around his middle and pulls him closer, breathing him in. “Everything’s going to be better now, I promise.”


	2. try'na be the bigger person but it's hard when i've been feeling so small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from A Mess (Happy 4 U) by Little Mix cuz i love them and you should all listen to their new album Confetti thanks

_ Where are you now? Waiting for you at the parking lot with a special surprise! ;) _ _   
_ _ -Husband _   
  
Alex smiles at her phone as she alights the cab, typing a quick reply as she walks.   
  
_ Almost there! Give me five minutes. Can’t wait for your surprise! _   
  
She places her phone back in her purse and resumes her pace, smiling to herself. Matt has been more himself lately, a lot more happier and energetic than before. She thinks it’s because the movie he’s cast in is a very lighthearted romantic comedy, and from the look of the stellar script and star-studded cast, it’s set to be a huge hit in theaters when it’s released.    
  
She also thinks that it’s because they aren’t fighting as much anymore. Ever since she decided to go back to acting, she’s been keeping herself busy with auditions, learning scripts and practicing every day. She feels bad for being so hard on him while he was working, and she’s making an effort to be more understanding while he’s on this big new project. She doesn’t give him the cold shoulder when he comes back late, and though they still haven’t revived their Wednesday dinners, he does bring home takeout at least once a week, and they eat together on the couch while watching television.   
  
He’s back to smiling and coming home only a little later than usual, and though their sex life isn’t picking back up he is certainly more attentive than when he was working on that TV show. Alex is more than satisfied with their regular make out sessions before bed. Even though it very rarely escalates to actual sex, she can’t complain when Matt kisses her so hungrily, pushing his eager tongue into her mouth as his hands wander around her body, warm fingers palming her breasts and nails scraping against her inner thigh.    
  
She supposes she could be frustrated at him for only ever teasing and not actually fucking her, but it’s definitely a step up from before. So each night she embraces his warm hands and his hot breath on hers, and she makes sure never to push for more unless he does.    
  
She has to give up their make out sessions for the weekend though, because she promised Salome they’d spend the next few days alone - a girls’ night. Though she is beyond excited to spend more time with her daughter, she can’t help but feel reluctant to leave Matt - especially when he’s finally being himself again. She doesn’t want anything to change between them.   
  
Two days before she’s set to leave with Salome, she told him how much she was going to miss him. He responded by pulling her into his lap and tucking a curl behind her ear carefully, smiling the sweetest smile as he repeated her sentiment and invited her for lunch outside the studio the next day, one last outing before she leaves for forty-eight hours.    
  
She arrives at the studio just a little earlier than promised. She walks past the sets in construction and spots the trailers immediately, smiling to herself as she walks past the vehicles and into ‘the hangout spot’, as Matt had imaginatively named it. He talks about where the cast spend time together in between breaks or after shooting, eating snacks and drinking while just chatting with each other and telling stories.    
  
In the middle of the parking lot, amongst grass and behind the trailers, there are three tables with benches. No one knows why it was so randomly placed there, but it provided a hidden space to just relax or rehearse, and they decided to make good use of it.    
  
She spots Matt immediately when she walks past the trailers. There are only three people seated at the table, and she assumes the rest must have gone out for lunch. Matt is sitting beside another man, both with their backs to her, listening attentively to a beautiful young lady talk.   
  
Alex makes eye contact with the girl and attempts to smile but she ignores her, turning her attention back to Matt. Alex frowns and shrugs it off - maybe the girl didn’t realise that Alex was looking at her, or maybe she thought Alex was a crazed fan or part of the press.   
  
Alex takes the opportunity to closely examine the woman Matt seems to be in deep conversation with. She’s very pretty - stunningly so, even with minimal makeup. Olive skinned, long wavy brown hair down to her waist and a figure many would die for. The closer Alex gets to the table, the surer she is of the identity of the beautiful woman.    
  
Rosalyn Connor is in her late twenties, a supermodel turned actress and, according to multiple magazines and news outlets, one of the most beautiful faces of the year. She’s gorgeous, perky and smiles for all the cameras, and everyone just loves to love her.    
  
She also happens to be the female lead in Matt’s new movie.    
  
“... and everyone just  _ pretends _ , you know? They pretend to be interested in me just to get in my pants.” Rosalyn sighs dramatically, resting her beautiful face against her palm. “Jared is the last man I’ll ever let get close to me, I swear.”   
  
“Don’t say that, Ros,” Matt says sympathetically, patting her hand. “You’ll find someone. Look at me, I dated models and all sorts and I never thought I’d find the love of my life in - ”   
  
“Oh Matty, you’ve got something on your lip,” Rosalyn cuts him off, green eyes wide as she examines his lips. Her small hands reach up to his face, wiping gently as she frowns in concentration. Her hands linger as she looks back up again and smiles. “There. All gone.”   
  
“Oh, thanks,” Matt says, and even though Alex is behind him she can see his ears going red. She’s sure the rest of his face is equally red, too. “Is it gone?   
  
“Yeap, don’t worry.” Rosalyn says cheerfully, before her voice drops almost seductively as she says, “I’m  _ very _ good with my hands.”   
  
She gives him a wink and he throws his head back in laughter, his cheeks still red. Alex frowns as she wonders if Matt is blushing from being caught with food on his lip or from being touched by Rosalyn. Before she can ponder even further, Rosalyn’s voice pipes up, significantly colder than before.    
  
“May we help you? We aren’t due on set for another one and a half hours today, so -”   
  
“Oh, Alex!” Matt stands immediately and gives her a warm smile. “Alex, meet Rosalyn and Tony. Guys, meet the wife.” A huge grin lights up his face as he turns to them. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”   
  
He presses a chaste kiss to Alex’s lips as the third person, the one who stayed silent the entire conversation, stands and greets her with a warm hug.    
  
“She is  _ incredibly _ gorgeous, Matthew,” Tony says, nodding in approval. His salt and pepper hair catches the light of the afternoon sun and Alex can tell that this man has a quirky sense of humour by the way his eyes twinkle kindly at her. “A little  _ too _ gorgeous, in fact.” Tony leans in and says to Alex, in a stage-whisper, “How much did he pay you to marry him? I’ll double it if you leave him and come with me.”   
  
Before Alex can even open her mouth to reply, Matt steps in between them and puts his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side possessively as he gives Tony a mock glare. “Alex is not a product to be sold to the highest bidder, Tony.” Matt mock chastises the older man. “Having said that, she’s all mine.”   
  
“You look...  _ different _ .” Rosalyn cuts in. She doesn’t offer Alex a smile or a handshake, she merely sits in her seat as her eyes travel over Alex as if determining exactly what Alex is worth. Her lips twist almost imperceptibly into a small, condescending smirk.    
  
Alex tilts her head as she tries hardest not to narrow her eyes or glare. “Excuse me?”   
  
Rosalyn’s head snaps up as if she hadn’t realised she’s been speaking out loud. Alex frowns in thought, genuinely curious about what Matt’s gorgeous co-star had to say about her appearance. Rosalyn stays silent for a while and Alex can feel Matt’s questioning gaze on her face, no doubt wondering why Alex greeted Rosalyn in such a manner. Alex isn’t the type to judge anyone based on first impressions but she is definitely the type to trust her instincts - and her instincts tell her that Rosalyn Connor is as condescending as she is beautiful.   
  
“From your pictures,” Rosalyn clarifies, finally standing and offering a little smile. She sticks her hand out. “I’m Rosalyn Connor. I’m playing Matty’s love interest.”   
  
“Alex Kingston,” Alex says politely, mustering a genuine smile and shaking the other woman’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”   
  
“Likewise,” Rosalyn says, about as sincere as her pained smile. She gives a tinkling of laughter as she turns to Matt. “Oh Matty, you never told me Alex was acting again!” She turns to Alex, bright eyes and wide smile - genuine this time, Alex can tell by the glint in her eyes. “If you’re gaining weight for a role, I have this  _ amazing _ trick. It works wonders, honestly - all you have to do is eat one of those -”   
  
“Uhh - Ros, Alex isn’t - she isn’t prepping for a role.” Matt says, scratching his cheek awkwardly. Alex would have found the situation hilarious if she could figure out what Rosalyn’s honest intentions are.    
  
“Oh?” Rosalyn frowns, looking Alex up and down again. She gasps on cue, eyes widening in horror when she realises what Matt is saying and Alex thinks she must give the girl credit for being such a brilliant actress. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to imply that you’re -”   
  
“Oh it’s fine, Rosalyn,” Alex waves a hand, smiling good naturedly. She doesn’t know what Rosalyn is playing at but some ideas have already formed in her mind. Quite frankly, she isn’t in the mood to entertain such childish antics but if she insists then well - Alex has never been one to turn down a game.   
  
She feels Matt relax beside her and exchange a look she can’t quite decipher with Tony.    
  
“Well, listen, if you need any tips on healthy eating or exercising, I’ll be so happy to help.” Rosalyn says sweetly, before she adds, “Anything for Matty’s wife.”   
  
The way Rosalyn’s eyes flicker to Matt and back at Alex again, a small smirk on her face, just confirms Alex’s suspicions. Alex smiles back as politely as she can, determined not to let Rosalyn think she has the upper hand. Alex has had to handle many women with the exact personality - or lack thereof - as Rosalyn.    
  
Rosalyn runs her hand through her wavy locks anxiously as she says, “I really am sorry if I insulted you, Alex.”   
  
“Thank you for the offer, Rosalyn,” Alex smiles, tilting her head. “But I get plenty of exercise right at home.” She leans in closer to the girl and winks as she says, “I’m  _ very _ flexible.” She ignores the scarred look on Rosalyn’s face and turns to Matt. “Ready to go, darling?”   
  
“Yeah - got the car keys.” Matt says immediately. Alex knows that he’s just relieved to find an out in an awkward situation, but she can’t resist turning back around to face Rosalyn again.    
  
“It really was very nice to meet you both, Tony, Ms Connor,” Alex says, looking Rosalyn in the eye.   
  
Rosalyn’s gaze doesn’t waver as she smiles, her voice sugary sweet as she says, “Pleasure’s all mine, Ms Kingston.”   
  
“Smith.” Alex corrects. She hasn’t ever gone by her married name in the industry, but as she stares at Rosalyn’s determined eyes, she feels the need to remind the girl exactly who she’s talking to. “Mrs Smith.”   
  
*   
  
The surprise was actually her favourite restaurant, only a ten minute drive from the studio. She looks at the menu, her eyes glazing over as she resists the urge to order everything - even if she hadn’t shown it, Rosalyn’s comment has been sitting uncomfortably in her mind the entire car ride. Or more accurately, the way Matt had looked away at Rosalyn’s insinuation.   
  
She clears her throat. “So, Rosalyn was...  _ interesting _ .”   
  
“Oh God, listen,” Matt starts immediately, putting his menu down on the table. “You are  _ not _ putting on weight. I don’t even know why she said that. And even if you were you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world to me, Alex, I -”   
  
“Darling, darling, it’s okay, really.” She soothes, reaching for his hand across the table. “I know I’m not gaining weight, I’ve weighed the same since my late forties.”   
  
It’s true - she’s been careful with maintaining her weight and shape. It isn’t for her own vanity, as everyone automatically assumes - but rather because she’s had so much time on her hands lately. She figured it would make sense to start making more of an effort to participate in a healthier lifestyle. After all, how else would she be able to live until a hundred and two?   
  
Still, she can’t help but smile fondly at how quickly Matt tries to put her mind at ease. It makes her feel good, the confirmation that her husband would still think she’s beautiful regardless of what her weight is.   
  
“How is she, honestly?” Alex asks. “As an actress, I mean. I realised I never asked you.”   
  
“She’s very dedicated.” Matt says, and Alex almost wishes she never asked the question because Matt’s smile widens and his eyes twinkle as he talks about his co-star. Alex can’t even figure out if it’s because he’s relieved that she didn’t fixate on her and Rosalyn’s misunderstanding or if he’s just extremely excited to talk about his pretty colleague. “She takes her job seriously and she’s a method actress, so while we’re on the clock she doesn’t break character. She’s really great, honestly - very funny and flirty,” Matt says, but as soon as the last word leaves his mouth he stutters out, “I mean, that’s her character, you know - and she flirts with literally everyone on set. But yeah, she’s great. I’m gonna have fun working with her over the next few months.” He finishes, smiling excitedly.   
  
“That’s perfect,” she says warmly, smiling at the sight of seeing Matt so happy and stress-free, even if it’s while talking about Rosalyn. “And did the director say anything about your chemistry?”   
  
“All good things. Things are going great, seriously.” He sighs in relief and takes her hand. “Listen, I know we had a rough few months, with me missing all that stuff.” He squeezes lightly and smiles, holding her gaze with such loving eyes she finds herself melting like she always does. “But things will get better. I can feel it.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand. “I love you so much.”   
  
“I love you too, darling,” she says, squeezing her hand back.    
  
His phone beeps, interrupting the moment. He smiles a little apologetically before he reaches for the phone, frowning down at the screen.    
  
“What is it?” She asks.   
  
“There’s been a scheduling mix-up.” He informs her. “We’re shooting a different scene today.”   
  
"Which scene?"   
  
He cringes as she looks up at her. “The raunchy scene.”   
  
“The raunchy scene?” She repeats. He nods. “The against the wall, hot and passionate, legs around your waist while ripping off buttons scene?  _ That _ scene?” He nods again. “Oh. Do you have to leave now?”   
  
“No, no, we’ve still got an hour left on lunch.” He tucks his phone back in his pocket and nods at the menu on the table. “Decided what you’re going to have?”   
  
As she looks down at her menu, an image floats in Alex’s mind, clear as day: Rosalyn and Matt wrapped around each other, his hand on her perfect thighs as they moan through heated kisses, Rosalyn’s petite body pinned to the wall by Matt’s muscular torso as her fingers pull his shirt apart, scattering buttons everywhere.   
  
She wonders if she and Matt look just as perfect when they do that as Rosalyn and Matt does in her head.   
  
She feels a headache coming on, and suddenly she doesn’t feel very hungry.   
  
“I’ll just have a salad and a glass of wine.” She tells Matt, slamming the menu shut. Matt looks strangely at her, frowning, and she shakes her head. “You know what, scratch the wine. I’ll just have a glass of plain water, please.”


	3. if you're happy, i'm happy; i'm happy for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from A Mess (Happy 4 U) by Little Mix

For the rest of lunch, neither of them talk about Rosalyn or the scene she’s shooting with her later, a fact that she’s grateful for. Instead, she fills him in on her plans with Salome for the weekend as he listens attentively.  
  
“Sounds like a lot of fun,” he says, once Alex is done taking through their two day itinerary. “I can’t believe I’ll be missing out on all of that.”  
  
He sticks his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout and Alex grins as she assures him, “It’s alright, darling. You’ll have plenty of time to enjoy Salome’s company next weekend.”  
  
They end up reaching the studio with twenty minutes left to spare and they head back to the hangout spot, hand in hand and laughing quietly.  
  
“Matty!” Rosalyn calls, and Alex has to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the sound of the woman’s voice. Throughout her life, Alex has never met anyone she can’t tolerate - at least, not within the first few minutes of meeting them. Well, there’s a first time for everything. And Rosalyn is definitely the first. “Did you see the schedule mix-up? Wild, right? Well, get ready to be _seduced_ by me, Mr Smith. Oh, Alex, I didn’t see you there! I thought Matty would’ve sent you home before he came back.”  
  
“Actually, Matt insisted that I come back with him since he has a little bit of time left.” Alex says, smiling. Rosalyn is grating but if Matt likes her so much how bad could she really be?   
  
“Gotta make use of the time we have left,” Matt says cheekily, grinning at Alex. “Forty-eight hours without my wife. I’m going to miss your cooking. And you, of course - but your cooking.”  
  
“I hate you,” she shakes her head. “I’m going to miss watching you try to cook and burning the kitchen down in the process.”  
  
“That is _mean_ , Kingston.” Matt says, gasping in mock outrage. Alex laughs. “Anyway, come see my trailer, sweetheart. It’s this way.”  
  
“Alright,” Alex says, already preparing to follow Matt in the direction he’s going. Before she can even take a step, however, Rosalyn catches her wrist, one of those sickly sweet smiles she’s so known for plastered on her face.  
  
“You won’t need to worry, Ms Kingston,” Rosalyn tilts her head as she stares past Alex at Matt’s retreating back. “I’ll take very good care of Matty while you’re gone. In all the areas I’m capable of.”  
  
She lets go of Alex’s wrists and places her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised as if daring Alex to challenge her. Alex looks her in the eye and decides that it isn’t worth her time - despite the cattiness she showed when she first met the girl, there’s nothing that can be gained by sinking as low as Rosalyn, so she doesn’t. Alex will treat her as pleasantly as any other person. She gives her a smile, quite genuine this time.   
  
“I’m sure you will, Rosalyn.” Alex says simply, turning her back on the girl and catching up with Matt.  
  
Matt walks to the trailers parked just a few feet from the hangout spot, the rest of the cast still within earshot as he shows her in. It’s modest, just the right amount of space to move around, and Alex can see that he’s already made it his own. She sees pictures, most of them of her and Matt, some of his family and Salome, on the walls of his trailer and in photo frames, placed on countertops. His clothes are dumped in a corner and the duffel bag he brings to work lays on the sofa, empty.  
  
She grins as she studies to place. “Very cosy. And tidier than I thought it would be.”  
  
“Thanks,” he smiles, accepting the backhanded compliment.  
  
“So,” she flops down the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and fixing him with a naughty look. “Why did you call me in here? Hoping to have a quickie before breaks ends?”  
  
Matt laughs, fond eyes travelling over her even as he shakes his head. “I just want to spend time together, Alex. No sex needed for that.” Matt says.  
  
“But do you _want_ it, Matthew?” She asks, leaning forward to fix him with a knowing stare. “You do, don’t you? The thought of you taking me while your new friends are right outside turns you on, doesn’t it?”  
  
She smirks as he fidgets, trying to hide the bulge in his pants at the soft and slow way she speaks. He can try to hide his erection but he’ll never be able to hide his eyes, darkened with lust, as he listens to her continue.  
  
“Where shall we do it, Matt? So many surfaces to christen here.” She stands, her eyes scanning the limited space. She spots the door and smirks wider, approaching confidently. “You can practice for your little _raunchy_ scene now, darling.” She stands on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Take me against the door, Matthew.”  
  
“Alex,” he says uncertainly, even as his hands grasp her hips tightly. “The cast is just outside, I...”  
  
“You don’t want to fuck me now?” She asks, her eyebrows raised.   
  
“No, no - fuck - of course I do, Alex,” he says, his eyes travelling over her body hungrily before meeting hers again. She smiles instantly because she knows she won. “Fuck, I can never resist you, Kingston.”  
  
He pushes her up against the door, looking down at her sternly as his hand travels to the buttons on her shirt. “You’ll have to keep quiet, Alex. Or I’ll put my hand over your mouth. Understood?”  
  
She bites her lip, an innocent smile on her face as her hand slips down to his pants. She trails the tips of her fingers over him lightly as she whispers, “Afraid your friends will find out how much you love to beg, darling?”  
  
He growls, undressing both of them quickly. Once they’re both naked he pushes her against the door and kisses her hungrily, pinning her to the door with his body. She can feel him against her thigh, hard and ready, and she feels more turned on than she has in ages.   
  
“Fucking hell, Alex,” he grunts, his lips still on hers as he picks her up and wraps her legs around him. He positions himself at her entrance and thrusts hard into her, grunting as he buries himself to the hilt. “You’re so wet. Have you been thinking about this, you naughty little girl?”  
  
Alex lets her mouth drop open, a soundless sigh escaping as she feels him enter her; it’s been too long since he’s done this to her. He starts to move and she gasps, her hands gripping tightly on his shoulders as he thrusts.   
  
“Oh, yes,” she sighs, whimpering as he thrusts slowly. “Fuck, Matt, fuck me harder. I want to feel your cock driving into me.”  
  
“Jesus, Alex.” He gasps, pausing for a while. She whimpers in disapproval but he ignores her, grabbing her knees and placing her feet on his shoulders, folding her in half. She moans as she feels him go deeper inside her, letting her head fall back onto the door with a loud thump. He pulls out and pushes back in again with a grunt, letting out a strangled moan as she clenches tightly around his length. “You like that people can hear us from here, don’t you? What do you think they’ll say when they find out that Alex Kingston is a fucking slut?”  
  
“Only for your cock,” she answers easily, letting a small smirk grace her lips as she thinks about the people outside hearing them fuck.   
  
“Shit, baby,” he grunts, losing control on his thrusts for a moment. His eyes are shut tight as he presses her knees into her chest, swallowing roughly as he seeks out her lips. “You feel too fucking good, Alex, I need to - I can’t- ”  
  
“Just take me, Matt,” she whispers against his lips. She feels her heart beat fast in her chest in anticipation, finally being fucked by him in the way she’s wanted to for so long. She lets a brief triumphant thought of Rosalyn realising what’s happening in this trailer come across her mind before he thrusts into her again, and she loses all thoughts as she begs, “Just fuck me hard. Pound your cock into me- ”  
  
She cuts off with a sharp gasp as he slams her harder against the door and starts driving into her, losing control of his thrusts. He grunts and groans and moans as he fucks her hard and deep, so deep she screams soundlessly. She whimpers and gasps, her eyes closed tight with the pleasure that overtakes her each time he drives himself deep into her. His eyes are screwed in concentration, his jaw clenched as his hips jerk up pounding her into the door fast, and he’s sure that if his friends didn’t know what they were doing before, they certainly do now, because there’s no way they can explain off the ruthless thumping against the door.  
  
His whispers are fast and breathless, telling her how good she feels, how much he loves to fuck her, how they should do this more often. He tells her how, when he’s done with filming, they’re going to spend as much time as they can fucking around the house, how he’s going to lick her off when they’re done, how he’ll make her come so much she’ll beg him to stop.   
  
“Matt, come inside me,” she whispers, her voice shaking as he pounds into her. “I want to feel you come inside me, please, I need it, Matt -”  
  
He thrusts deep into her one last time, coming inside her with a grunt. She moans her release, her legs shaking against her chest. He sets her down gently, pinning her up against the door as she regains her balance. Then he sinks to his knees in front of her, lightheaded with pleasure as he looks up at her like a worshipper begging for forgiveness.  
  
“Matt?”  
  
His hands caress her thighs gently, before pinning her hips against the door and bringing a knee over his shoulder. “I still have eight more minutes, darling. Hold still.” He whispers, his lips closing around her clit.   
  
It doesn’t take long for her to come on his face.  
  
*  
  
Alex waits in their living room with an excited smirk. She can’t wait for Matt to get home so she can ravish him on the dining table. Waiting is proving to be hard. Before she left the studio after their little tryst in Matt’s trailer he whispered that she should be ready for more tonight; and ready she was.  
  
Her black satin nightgown is skimpy and thin, the spaghetti straps sitting daintily on her shoulders. It barely covers her arse but she quite likes it that way. A matching set of panties can be easily seen as she sits back on the couch, the hem of her nightgown riding up high on her thigh. The only reason she’d bothered with knickers in the first place is because over the years, she’d developed a thing for Matt ripping off her clothing in his desperation to take her. Strappy heels cover her feet - ones that Matt had chosen specifically for her, and the final touch - her hair teased and her lips painted in a dark shade of red that looks beautiful against Matt’s pale skin. She’s all set.  
  
She waits on the couch, watching the clock with eager and impatient eyes. Matt always arrives home about an hour before midnight, on days he ends ‘early’. If he doesn’t he’ll be home at least before two am.  
  
The front door opens fifteen minutes after midnight and Alex smiles, crossing one leg over the other and exposing the black lace panties almost completely for her husband to see. She leans back against the couch, a flirty and seductive look on her face as she waits in anticipation for Matt to lose control at the sight of her.   
  
Matt comes into her line of vision and stops dead in his tracks when he sees her. But instead of his jaw dropping or his eyes popping out of his head like it usually does, he turns away and heads for the kitchen without saying a word.   
  
Frowning, Alex stands and follows him, her heels clacking against the floor.   
  
“That was not the reaction I was expecting,” she says, leaning against the doorway and watching as he pours himself a glass of whiskey. “Did something happen after I left just now?”  
  
He takes a long drink out of his glass, setting it onto the counter again. His hazel eyes pierce the counter as if it somehow did him wrong and his floppy fringe covers his eyes, no longer gelled back like it was at lunch.  
  
“Someone,” he takes another sip of whiskey, “complained to the director today, after you left. Told him what we were doing in our trailer during lunch.”  
  
Alex’s frown deepens and she crosses her arms over her chest as he pours himself another glass. “And who was it?”  
  
He shrugs half-heartedly. “Director wouldn’t say. Apparently, they didn’t want me to know because they didn’t want it to affect our working relationship. Whatever they said though - it was enough to make the director very angry. He told me I couldn’t go shagging around the studio whenever I feel like it.”  
  
“What? That’s ridiculous! We were in your _trailer_ , for God’s sake! We weren’t on set!” Alex says incredulously, her frown deepening the more she listens to Matt. “If they didn’t want to listen they could’ve just gone someplace else!”  
  
“That doesn’t matter,” Matt bites out, almost sounding like he’s angry with _her_. “They did it, they complained and I would’ve gotten fired if Rosalyn hadn’t stuck up for me and said that everyone deserves a second chance. He gave me a warning instead.”  
  
“ _What_?” Alex says in disbelief. “They wanted to fire you over this?”  
  
“We had sex in my trailer, Alex, we weren’t supposed to do that!” Matt exclaims in frustration, his face red as he turns to her.  
  
“Loads of actors do that, Matthew, this isn’t unheard of.” Alex tells him. “What’s unheard of is anyone getting fired over it.”  
  
“Well it almost happened to me, alright?” Matt almost shouts. “And none of this would’ve happened if you’d just -”  
  
“No. No, no, no, no.” Alex shakes her head firmly, glaring at her husband. “Are you seriously blaming this on me? Remind me again, Matt - who was the one who pushed me up against the door of your trailer and fucked me while telling me how good it felt to be inside me? If you didn’t want to have sex then why didn’t you just say so?”  
  
“Because I _wanted_ to!” Matt shouts, abandoning his glass of whiskey and running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I _always_ want to be with you, Alex, and you damn well know that. You know exactly how much trouble I have resisting you - ”  
  
“You’re doing a damn good job at resisting me now!” Alex shouts back, gesturing at herself.  
  
“Because I’m angry!” Matt exclaims, his arms flying wildly now. “Because I’m tired and upset and I just got an earful from the director about having sex at work!”  
  
“So because I know you can’t resist me, then I’m supposed to know better than you, is that right?” Alex asks sarcastically.  
  
“Ye- what? No!” Matt stutters. He looks haggard and harried, and Alex would feel sorry for him if he wasn’t being a complete arse about this entire situation. “I’m saying that we should’ve known better, Alex, the entire cast were sitting not two feet from the trailer while we were fucking! We should’ve known it wasn’t the right time.” He says, a bit more calmly after taking a breath.  
  
Alex looks at him and lifts a shoulder, determined to be cool and calm as she asks, “When is the right time, then?”  
  
“What?” He asks. She can tell he’s unnerved by the change of subject but she’s tired of it - all of it.  
  
“When is the right time, Matthew?” She asks again. She pushes herself off the wall and starts towards him, heels clacking as she counts on her fingers. “Not before work because there’s never enough time; not after work because you’re always tired; certainly not during work because you almost got sacked. Not on weekends either because Salome is here or you get called in to film.”   
  
She stops right in front of him and tilts her head up. “Then when, Matthew?”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about, Alex?” Matt asks, half concern and half frustration as his eyes travel over her face, trying to read her emotions.   
  
“If you want to stop fucking me then just tell me,” she says, rolling her eyes before turning around and muttering, “then I’ll stop making a fool out of myself while trying so hard to get your attention.”  
  
“What the hell are you saying?” Matt asks, his voice in controlled anger, a tone he hasn’t ever used on Alex before.   
  
“That we fuck once every few weeks,” Alex replies, folding her arms again in a protective stance. “And I don’t mean _once_ , as in one night. I mean once, literally. We fuck, we come, we clean up and go to sleep.”  
  
“And you have a problem with that?” He asks, unsure.  
  
Alex sighs, putting her hand on her forehead. “Okay, look - when we were dating, you literally couldn’t keep your hands off me. All I had to do was _look_ at you a certain way and you’d drag me into the restroom for a quickie. And now,” she gestures over herself. “I’m wearing this and you don’t even bat an eyelash. Just - tell me what’s wrong,” her voice is quieter as she looks down, her fingers fiddling nervously with each other. “Tell me what to do so you’ll find me sexy again.”  
  
Her eyes fill with tears the longer the silence stretches between them, the way a lot of things in their relationship are - tense and uncomfortable. She’s done it, she thinks. There’s no longer anything she can do to be attractive to him anymore. She feels a sob growing in her throat and she’s about to turn away from him to run to the bathroom when he grabs her and slams her against the kitchen counter, releasing a gasp from her.   
  
He reaches for her hand and pulls it roughly towards the front of his trousers, making her gasp a second time when she feels the bulge in his pants. She looks up at him, wide eyed with surprise but she finds no trace of softness in his face; all she can see in his features are anger and disbelief, his eyes dark and cold.   
  
“Do you really fucking think,” he breathes deeply, reaching under her nightgown and snapping her knickers to the side, “that I don’t find you sexy?”  
  
He presses her hand harder against his trousers. “Does that fucking _feel_ like I don’t find you sexy?”  
  
His other hand creeps up her thigh and enters her roughly, and she gasps as she feels two fingers sliding in and out of her, no rhythm or pattern, just fucking as quickly as possible.   
  
“Just because I don’t drop everything when I see you and take you against the nearest surface doesn’t mean I don’t find you sexy, Alex.” He growls in her ear, his voice hard and furious. “I thought you understood that I keep my hands off you because I can’t keep thinking about how good it is to have my cock in your mouth while I’m working, or how good it feels to come inside you while I’m in a meeting, or how fucking good your cunt tastes when I’m supposed to be networking at a party. I can’t fuck you and not constantly think about it, Alex.”  
  
He pulls his fingers out of her and closes his mouth around them, his other hand already unzipping his pants and pulling himself out. He lifts her up onto the counter, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her back against the countertop.   
  
He looks into her eyes as he enters her, her jaw dropping as she draws in deep breaths. A few tears have already escaped but she feels more build in her eyes as he moves inside her, as he proves that she has nothing to worry about.  
  
“I would fuck you in the middle of Times Square if you wanted.” he grunts as he starts thrusting hard. She lets out a high pitched gasp each time he pushes deep inside her and he continues, undeterred. “You’re the sexiest, most gorgeous woman in the universe, Alex. Just because I don’t fuck you every single time I lay my eyes on you doesn’t mean I don’t find you as sexy as you were five years ago. Hell, twenty years ago. Do you understand?”  
  
Alex nods frantically, hips jerking to meet his thrusts. She locks eyes with his and lets a ghost of a smile shadow her face before she lets out a loud moan and her head thumps back against the marble, her back arching off the counter.  
  
He places both hands under her back and sits her up, moving her nightgown to the side. The straps fall off her shoulders and he pushes the satin material down to her stomach, exposing her breasts. He lifts her legs higher around his waist as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, and she balances herself by placing two hands on the counter behind her and leaning her weight on it. His hips snap up hard and fast to hers, and she can’t help as he starts sucking harder, his tongue swirling around her breast.  
  
“I will always find you sexy, Alex. Always.” He mutters against her skin. “And I will spend all day and all night worshipping you if you don’t believe me. Just like the last day of our honeymoon.”  
  
The reminder of what they’d done that day - of how thoroughly he’d marked and fucked her - set her off. She comes loudly, her hand grasping the back of his head and pushing his face into her chest. He comes a second later, her clenching muscles setting him off.  
  
They lay there panting for a few moments, his face still buried in her breasts as she tenderly strokes his sweat soaked hair, her lips grazing lightly against his temple.  
  
“I’m sorry you almost got fired today.” She says softly, as he lifts his head from her chest to look up at her. She cups his cheek and strokes his face gently.  
  
“I’m sorry I blamed you. I didn’t mean to do that.” He replies, leaning into her touch slightly before pressing a small kiss to her cleavage. He pushes himself off the counter and looks at her seriously before saying regretfully, “But we can’t do that again. The director won’t be so lenient next time.”  
  
She nods. “Understood.”  
  
“Alex, I...” he trails off, sighing. He takes her hand again, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm. “I just - the director wants a lot of sexual tension in this film. And he said it would be great if neither of us - you know - have sex again. So that’s what I’m trying to do here. I didn’t think you’d be so affected by it.” He steps closer and pecks her lips lightly. “I know that if I let myself, I’d have you every moment possible. So I’m trying not to let that happen. Is that okay with you?”  
  
“Yeah,” she nods, managing a smile. “Of course.”  
  
“You are the absolute best, Kingston.” He says tenderly. “But don’t worry, we have our fifth year anniversary coming up, and then our wedding anniversary next summer.” He waggles his eyebrows. “We can recreate the last day of our honeymoon on both occasions.”  
  
*  
  
Alex sits up in her bed, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. Salome is in the shower and Alex knows from experience that her daughter takes twice as long to clean herself when they’re on vacation. She always insists on taking advantage of the luxurious amenities the hotel provides, including the large bathtub.  
  
Alex doesn’t mind. It gives her a little time to herself, and time to talk to Matt.  
  
It seems that they keep missing each other. Each time she has a free moment, he seems to be working and every time he has a break Salome is occupying Alex’s time. As much as she loves her daughter, she really would like a chance to speak with her husband alone.   
  
She dials Matt’s number and presses the phone to her ear, hoping that he isn’t busy. Her heart skips a beat when she hears him pick up.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
In her panic, she hangs up the phone. That was _not_ her husband’s voice on the other side of the line. No, that was a female voice, coated in sugar, sounding sleepy and tired and - recently satisfied.   
  
That was _Rosalyn’s_ voice.  
  
Her heart thumps in her chest as she stares at the phone as thought it might hurt her. As though it might pipe up, in a voice sounding exactly like Rosalyn: _Matt is cheating on you._   
  
She can’t stop her eyes from watering or her hands from shaking as she stares at the screen of her phone, wondering if she’d dialled the wrong number, or if she’d miraculously been transferred to Rosalyn’s number by mistake. She comes up with a myriad of innocent explanations as to why Rosalyn answered Matt’s phone but none of them account for how _spent_ she sounded on the phone.  
  
Alex lets a few tears escape as her phone clatters to the floor. The sound of the shower starting up again reminds her that Salome is here and she needs to keep it together, for her daughter’s sake.  
  
“Mom?” Salome’s voice calls from the shower. “Is something wrong? I heard something fall.”  
  
Alex looks down at her phone on the floor, now ringing. She’s receiving a call from Matt.  
  
“It’s nothing dear, don’t worry about it.” Alex says, making sure her voice isn’t shaky.   
  
She looks down at the still-ringing phone and hits ‘decline’.

*****

“Mom? Mom? Mom!” Salome’s voice cuts through Alex’s thoughts, making Alex jump. “What’s wrong with you today? You’ve been acting weird ever since we left the hotel.”   
  
“It’s nothing, Salome - nothing to worry about.” She assures her daughter, looking around the cafe Salome chose to have lunch at to make sure the patrons didn’t see how weird she looked. “I’m just a little distracted today.”   
  
And distracted she was. She can’t seem to stop thinking about this morning, about Rosalyn answering Matt’s phone. Every time she tries to dissuade herself from the notion that Matt is cheating on her, the clearer it becomes that if he isn’t already, then he’s well on his way towards it.   
  
She looks at the facts - the night before last, he came home angry and upset because he almost got fired from his first big Hollywood movie. And the whole reason why he’d almost gotten fired was because she seduced him in the first place. Perhaps, despite what he’d said afterwards, he still blamed her for getting him into trouble with his director.   
  
Every time she arrives at this point she would ask herself - ‘but what about what happened afterwards? What about the way he made me feel him through his trousers, the way he took me against the counter?’ Then she’d remind herself exactly which scene he’d filmed before he came back home - _the raunchy scene_ .   
  
Maybe the tension and erotic energy from filming something close to a love scene with one of the most beautiful women in the world had caused the problem in his pants. The way he’d looked at her that night hadn’t been loving or comforting in the slightest; it’d been driven by fury and disbelief and _lust_ \- maybe for someone else.   
  
Maybe he’d fucked her that night just to shut her up. Maybe he just needed to let some of the tension from filming such an erotically-charged scene out, and she was the most convenient outlet. Not who he wanted, but she’d do the job. And maybe that whole explanation about the director wanting more sexual tension on set was a flimsy excuse to keep him from sleeping with her anymore.   
  
She thinks back to how Rosalyn had sounded on the phone - what was the story there? Had Matt been seduced or did he go willingly? Perhaps he wanted to thank Rosalyn for helping him keep his job and one thing led to another?   
  
“Mom! _Mom_! You’re doing it again!” Salome waves a hand in front of her mother’s face. She drops her hand and looks at Alex in concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? Do you want to cancel the hike, go back to the hotel? We can watch movies instead.”   
  
“No, I’m fine, mausi, really.” Alex says, her smile a little pained. “We’re going for the hike.”   
  
“Are you su- ”   
  
Salome is interrupted by Alex’s phone, ringing shrilly. Alex swallows when she sees her husband’s name on the caller ID and her heart sinks. She can’t listen to him right now. If she does, she’s positive that she’ll break down crying and she would rather that not happen in a crowded cafe in LA.   
  
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Salome asks, after a few seconds of Alex staring at the screen.   
  
“No,” Alex answers, pressing ‘decline’ and turning her phone off. “It’s not important.”   
  
Deep down, her heart whispers the real reason why she won’t pick up her phone - because if she asks, and it turns out that everything is true, then that will be the end of it. This way, she won’t know. This way, it isn’t true.   
  
This way, she can pretend a little longer.   
  
*   
  
She drops Salome off at her father’s house on the way back home, dreading her return. Matt is probably already home by now, watching football on the telly or memorising his lines.   
  
She’s hurt. She’s hurt about what happened and she’s not sure that she wants to confront it, because she’s afraid that it’ll only lead to more pain. But she’s his wife, and she can’t avoid him forever.   
  
She unlocks the door as quietly as she can but still she hears the TV being switched off, followed by fast footfalls against the floor as she enters the house.   
  
“Alex!” Matt beams, and Alex wonders how she could ever confront him when her heart feels so full the moment he says her name. Matt wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart. Let me help you with those bags.”   
  
She clears her throat uneasily as he carries her bags to their bedroom and sets them down in the corner. “Darling, um - can I ask you something?”   
  
“Sure,” he smiles, sitting down on the bed and pulling her down beside him. He takes her hands and starts drawing patterns on the back of her palm with his fingers, waiting patiently for her to continue.   
  
She’s having second thoughts as she watches him, the way he presses his thighs to hers as if he can’t wait to close the distance between them; the way he looks at her as if nothing else is as important as what she has to say. She swallows tightly and manages a smile.   
  
“How was your day?” She asks instead, the first question she can think of.   
  
His eyebrows rise in surprise, an amused smile on his face. “Well, we filmed the flash forward scene today and we had two adorable little babies on set.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Yeah - hold on, I’ve got pictures.” He says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He shows her a couple of selfies, some of just him with the babies, and some including Rosalyn, looking the picture perfect family. Somehow, the sight breaks Alex’s heart even more. “They’re angels. It was so fun having them on set.”   
  
She nods, blinking rapidly to hold back tears. “Babies are always amazing to work with.” She stands suddenly, walking to the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower and go to sleep - I’m really tired.”   
  
“Yes, of course, I’ll get ready for bed too.” Matt says eagerly, getting up to change.   
  
She doesn’t know what caused the sudden change in his behaviour. It seems he’s incapable of not touching her for more than five minutes. He brushes his teeth while she showers, watching her through the glass when he’s done. He waits for her by the foot of the bed as she applies her creams and moisturizer, and he even picks a nightgown for her to sleep in. When they finally collapse in bed, he pressed himself close against her, their legs entangling. By now, her head is swimming with reasons why he could be acting this way - was he feeling guilty? She doesn’t care anymore; she needs answers, and she needs them now.   
  
“Matt?”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“I’m - I was just... wondering if you - if you gave your phone to Rosalyn by accident yesterday?” She asks tentatively, her heart still beating fast as she waits for his answer.   
  
“Actually, Rosalyn did take it by accident after work yesterday. We have the same phone and our covers are similar, too. How did you know?” He asks, frowning at her.   
  
“I - I called. And Rosalyn answered.” She tells him quietly, not meeting his eyes. “I thought it was something else at first.”   
  
“What did you think it was?” He asks, sitting up a little and forcing her to look him in the eye.   
  
“I don’t know,” she lies, looking away. “I just thought it was something different.”   
  
“Alex,” he sighs, reaching up to move hair out of her face. “You know I love you, right?”   
  
“Yes,” she says, her voice even softer.   
  
“Good.” He says softly, caressing her face lightly. A fond smile lights up his face. “I can’t wait for our anniversary, sweetheart. I’ve already booked the restaurant and bought your present. All you have to do is show up.”   
  
“You booked the restaurant already? But our anniversary is three weeks away.”   
  
“Can’t risk not getting a place, Alex,” he tells her, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going to make sure we have an amazing night, sweetheart.”   
  
She manages a real smile, tugging him down to press a kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she whispers, feeling his arms wrap around her. She snuggles into him, placing her head on his chest. “I love you too.”   
  
“How do you feel about going on a holiday?” He asks, his fingers tracing patterns on her back lightly. “After we’re done with the movie, we could go someplace, get away for awhile. How does that sound?”   
  
“You want to go for a holiday?” She asks, tilting her head up at him. “Just the two of us, or-?”   
  
“We could bring Salome, if you want,” he suggests. “But I’d be happy with just you for company. We could go to Rome or Paris or Barcelona - somewhere romantic.”   
  
Alex raises her eyebrows. “So, no Salome, then.”   
  
He smiles guiltily. “I really don’t mind bringing her, Alex, but I was hoping, you know - we haven’t really been on a couple trip since our honeymoon, so -”   
  
“It would be nice to spend some time alone on our holiday for once,” she says slowly, still hesitant. “If we can get Florian to take Salome for one more week then sure, why not?”   
  
He grins brightly. “Brilliant. Once I’m done with the movie we can plan a trip for just the two of us.” He kisses her softly, his lips moving slowly against hers. “I love you so much.”   
  
She leans up again, capturing his lips in another kiss. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder to listen to Little Mix's new album Confetti thanks muah


	4. can't make your heart feel something that it won't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from I Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Rait cuz i love me some angst

She’s thankful for the opportunity, but she hates that she’s spending her and Matt’s fifth anniversary waiting to audition for a role she probably won’t be getting anyway. She’s used to rejection by now - she’s spent a lot of her professional and personal life dealing with it - but she’s been through at least a dozen auditions over the last few months and not been called back for a single one. Needless to say, she isn’t very hopeful anymore.  
  
By the time the producers are ready to see her, she’s positive she won’t be able to make it back home on time for Matt to pick her up. She’s dying to text him but that would look beyond unprofessional - and she really would love to get this role, regardless of her luck these past few months.   
  
She trudges along with the audition, answering the producers’ questions easily and playing the scene for them. She can’t read the producers’ faces well enough to know if they liked her or not, but she tells herself that she did her best and it’s out of her hands now.   
  
The minute she exits the building she pulls out her phone to call Matt. It goes straight to voicemail but she leaves a message, apologising profusely for being late but promising that she’ll arrive soon, as she hails a cab.   
  
She feels her heart thumping excitedly in her chest as she sits in the back of the cab, impatient to spend some quality time with her husband. Ever since the misunderstanding a few weeks ago, she’s been a little less wary, trusting him the way she always wanted to.   
  
She can’t help but think of all the promises he made, swearing that she’ll have a great night that will most certainly end well into the morning. She smiles fondly to herself, biting her lip as she wonders what sort of surprises he has in store for her.   
  
She frowns when the cab driver pulls into their driveway and she sees that Matt’s car isn’t parked outside. She’s more than half an hour late, so he should be home already. Maybe he’s late, too.   
  
She shrugs, walking up the front door and smirking to herself. It’ll be fun to tease him about being late later on, as long as he doesn’t find out that she was late, too. She changes and dresses quickly, and when Matt still doesn’t show, she moves on to touching up her makeup and doing her hair.   
  
Then she goes down to the living room, and she waits.   
  
*   
  
She doesn’t know when the heartache turns to anger - probably somewhere around her fifth glass of wine. Mid-pour she realises that despite everything - despite reminding him last night before he fell asleep and texting him in the morning - he hadn’t shown. And he hadn’t even bothered to call to cancel. He just doesn’t _care_ anymore.   
  
And with that realisation, she realises that there is so much for her to be angry about - so many things he’s done - or, more accurately, hasn’t done. Everything he’s missed in the last couple of months thanks to that stupid movie he’s doing and how everything she’s come to love and cherish, with the exception of her daughter, is falling apart. No one is hiring her anymore, and her husband isn’t interested in her anymore. So much for that fairytale ending she was hoping for.   
  
She forces herself to stay up. She keeps the rage burning inside her, the anger and frustration at the situation bubbling in the surface and threatening to erupt. She drinks coffee with a dash of rum to calm her nerves as she waits for him at the dining table, still in her dress and heels, her make-up on and her hair still styled. She wants him to know _exactly_ what he missed out on tonight.   
  
It’s well into the morning when he comes back home - she’s still up, eyes red and nose stuffy as she sniffs. She must look like hell, having been crying since midnight, but she doesn’t give a damn what she looks like right now as she stares at her husband entering the kitchen, looking just as tired and miserable.   
  
He freezes at the doorway, taking in her appearance slowly, and she can tell exactly when realisation dawns on him because his eyes widen in horror and his jaw drops open.   
  
“Let me guess,” she says tiredly. Suddenly all the fight is out of her and she wants nothing more than to cuddle up with her pillows - alone. “You forgot. Again.”   
  
“Alex, I...” he trails off, swallowing an uneasy lump in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I totally forgot - we lost track of time at work and something happened, I swear we have the worst luck with our sets - ”   
  
“And you didn’t even bother to call and cancel.” She purses her lips and takes another sip out of her mug. “While I rushed from an audition on the other side of town just to make it on time and _you_ \- you _forget_ . Well.”   
  
“I know you’re angry, and I really am so so sorry - ”   
  
“Save it,” she shakes her head, downing the rest of her drink in one go and standing up. She tries not to wince as she gains feeling back in her legs - she’s been in that same position for over five hours. “I’m too tired to listen to you apologise again. It clearly doesn’t mean anything to you. You know what people do when they apologise, Matthew? They make an effort. They make an effort to set whatever they’ve done wrong right but you? You just - just keep _forgetting_ . That’s not a good enough excuse anymore. It never has been.”   
  
“Alex,” he says, following her as she stalks quickly past him and into the living room. “Alex, I - please, just listen to me. We ran late and it honestly just slipped my mind, I - ”   
  
“You forget lunch with your friends, that I can understand.” Alex starts, turning around to face him once again. She folds her arms across her chest and clenches her jaw, her voice low and dangerous as she continues, “You forget date nights, I can forgive that. But _this_ ? We’ve been talking about this for _weeks_ , Matthew, planning tonight - and you _forget_ ? Do you see how ridiculous that sounds, Matthew? Can’t you even bother coming up with a better explanation or am I only worth half-assed excuses?”   
  
“No, no of course not, Alex,” he sputters, eyes widening because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Alex speak like this to him before - not in the years they’ve been together. “I was - ”   
  
“No.” She says coldy, turning around to face him. “I told you, Matthew, I’m not in the mood to listen to you now. Honestly, at this rate you spend more time at work than you do here. Why do you even bother coming back home if you’re never spending time with me?”   
  
“I come home every night because I want to see _you_ ! I want to wake up next to you and I want to - I want to _sleep_ next to you, do you understand?” He shouts in frustration, raking his fingers through his hair harshly. He digs his nails in his scalp as he tries to contain the anger he feels - anger at himself. “Jesus Christ, Alex, I didn’t _want_ to forget our anniversary, it’s the first time we were alone in ages and I - I had _plans_ , damn it, I - ”   
  
“Too late for that now,” she says dryly. “I’m going to sleep - alone.” She adds, throwing a look over her shoulder. His shoulders slump in disappointment but she doesn’t care because she’s still angry, and she can’t look at him right now. “When you leave in the morning, take an extra set of clothes with you. Spend the night in your trailer.”   
  
“What?” He gasps. He chases after her into their bedroom, watches as she takes her pillows and her pajamas and moves to the spare bedroom next door. “Alex, please, don’t- ”   
  
“You heard me.” She says, pursing her lips. “Goodnight, Matt.”   
  
And she slams the door in his face.   
  
*   
  
He spends over half an hour on the other side of the bedroom door, knocking and pleading and apologising but she doesn’t budge. It’s just after four am when he drags himself over to their bedroom, feeling tired and lonely and miserable and helpless - he knows it’s his own fault but he has no idea how to fix it. Alex seems set on being angry with him for a while, and even if he could spare the time and energy to make it up to her he doesn’t have any idea what to do.   
  
He’s emotionally overwrought and his body is exhausted but he can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tries. His mind fills with scenarios and things he could say to Alex when the morning comes, but he doubts Alex would want to listen to his explanation then, either.   
  
Soon, he drifts off to an uneasy sleep, cloudy dreams of Alex filling his mind.   
  
Breakfast the next morning is tense, though he’s grateful that she even took the time to wake up early and start the coffee for him. She sits at the dining table with her glasses perched on her nose, reading the newspaper silently as she tries to ignore his existence. He supposes it could be worse.   
  
He takes his seat opposite her and sets his scrambled eggs down. He eyes her as he eats slowly, watching as the crease in her forehead deepens and deepens the longer he stares at her and she reluctantly lifts her eyes off the paper and fixes him with a cold stare.   
  
“I’m surprised you even stayed for breakfast,” she says cooly, and Matt averts his eyes to his plate. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Alex look so nonchalant yet so furious. It frightens him a little. “You’re usually at work by now.”   
  
He clears his throat a little nervously. “Yeah I - um - well, I have the morning off today. Asked the director a few days ago.”   
  
“Right,” she says, her tone unchanging. She drops her eyes back to the newspaper. “If I remember correctly, you wanted the morning off just in case we didn’t get much sleep yesterday.” She purses her lips and turns the page. “Pity it wasn’t for the reason you hoped.”   
  
He drops the fork onto the plate, the metal clattering against the ceramic as he stares at her. She doesn’t jump, but she throws a glance at the plate of half eaten scrambled eggs before she lifts her eyes to meet his.   
  
“Alex,” he sighs, his eyes pleading. “I _am_ sorry. I know you were excited about it and I let you down and I - I’m just knackered, sweetheart, there’s all these lines and press and just - ” he sighs again, reaching for her hand and cradling it tightly in his. “It’s hard to keep everything straight and sometimes I just - I forget. It’s not an excuse and you have every right to be mad at me but I - I swear, sweetheart, it’s not because you matter less than my work or - or because I’m trying to find excuses. I’m just - really, I haven’t been this ragged since Who.”   
  
He licks his lips and holds her hand tighter, interlacing their fingers with each other. “I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight,” he breathes deeply. “But please, _please_ , don’t make me spend one more night alone. Please.”   
  
She swallows and stares at him, already feeling her fragile walls crumbling. She’s never been able to stay mad at him for long - that’s why she hasn’t brought any of it up until now. She’d had so many things to tell him, to maybe even bring up the subject that she’s been dreading - that maybe, despite everything, they weren’t working anymore. But she can’t.   
  
She looks at him, his eyes wide and pleading, and she knows. No matter what Matt Smith feels for her - no matter if he realises that he’s already fallen out of love with her or not, she will spend the rest of her life loving him. Of that, she is definitely sure.   
  
In her lifetime, she’s let go of so many things - her ex-husbands and her hometown in England, her dream of having a house full of laughing children, living her life quietly and happily with her big family. She’s let go of her deep, emotional scars and feelings of worthlessness that the end of her first marriage brought her and she’s let go of the fear of spending the rest of her life alone that the end of her second marriage brought her. She’s always known the proper time to overcome her fears and challenges and just - letting go. She’s quite good at that.   
  
Until now. She can’t bring herself to let go of Matt just yet. She just needs a little more time - to build up enough courage and determination, to find enough strength within her to let go of someone she loves for the last time.   
  
The fact of the matter is, Matt Smith, despite his many faults, makes her happy. And she will do anything to hold onto that happiness for just a little while longer.   
  
“I promise I will make it up to you,” he whispers, his eyes moving over her face tenderly.   
  
_Promises_ , her heart whispers bitterly, _how many of them have you broken already, Matthew? Why should I trust that you’ll keep this one?_   
  
“Why are you all the way over there, then?” Her smile is a little strained but Matt doesn’t notice, beaming up at her. “Come here and make it up to me.”   
  
She’ll hold on a little longer. She deserves it.

*

“You’re sure you want me there? You’re absolutely _positive_ ?” Alex asks for the millionth time. She’s on the phone with Matt - she’s going shopping for a dress to wear to the cast party but she isn’t sure if Matt really wants her there or if he’s just inviting her out of courtesy, as an apology for missing their anniversary date. If that’s all this is, then she’d rather stay at home alone tonight.   
  
“Why do you keep asking me that?” he laughs at the other end of the line, and Alex is glad that at least _someone_ finds this situation amusing, because she certainly doesn’t.   
  
“Because you’ve never invited me to any of your cast parties since we got married, honey.” she answers easily, eyeing a purple dress with a nice floral pattern, and thinking that it would look good with the rabbit ring she has at home.   
  
“That’s because you always said no before,” he explains, and she immediately goes to protest but he cuts her off. “Alex, I want you there. Please? I know you’re already going shopping for it, so why not just... come with me? It’ll be a fun night, love, I promise.”   
  
“Alright, alright.” she concedes, a small smile on her face as she slips the purple floral dress off the rack, and her eye catches another deep green, form-fitting dress that sits just out of sight in the corner of the store - not really her style, but Matt would like it tremendously if she wore it. She supposes dressing slightly better than usual for Matt wouldn’t be a problem, especially not if there were certain people in attendance to the party - “Just one question, darling,” she says, attempting to sound casual even as her fingers itch to get to the green dress before anyone else sees it, “Who else is going to be there?”   
  
“I mean, it’s just the cast and crew, you know - Greg, Tony, Sophie, Rachel -” he ticks the names of the cast and crew off his fingers and with each name that passes she relaxes even more, turning her back towards the green dress and tightening her grip on the purple floral one, telling herself it was ridiculous to buy something so unlike her just for a cast party that she wasn’t even part of. She smiles into the phone, thinking of how she could actually have fun there - meet Matt’s friends, drink some alcohol and spend the night dancing with her husband - they haven’t danced together in _ages_ .   
  
“Oh, and of course - can’t forget Rosalyn,” he pauses for a moment, and she can hear him frowning as he mutters, “Can’t believe I forgot Rosalyn.”   
  
“Oh, she’ll be there too, will she?” Alex asks, turning back towards the green dress in the corner of the store again.   
  
“She is the female lead, Alex, you can’t expect her _not_ to be there.” he points out, and Alex rolls her eyes, thinking that there are a lot of things she wouldn’t expect Rosalyn _not_ to do. “Okay love, I’ll see you at five - are you coming straight to the venue or do you want me to pick you up?” Alex is just about to open her mouth to reply when Matt cuts her off and says, “You know what, that was a dumb question. I’ll pick you up - yes, five o’clock sharp, okay?”   
  
A slow smile spreads across Alex’s face. “Can’t wait.”   
  
“Mmm,” her husband hums lowly at the other end of the line. “Me neither, love.”   
  
She hangs up the phone, a smile on her face - she’ll get the purple dress. Sod what everyone else thinks of her, she only cares what Matt thinks - and he’s always found her beautiful in everything she wears. She doesn’t need to stoop to such a petty level just to show some pretty young girl who’s every male’s secret fantasy that yes, she can dress better - and that she looks just as amazing.   
  
She carries the purple dress to the fitting room, and determinedly doesn’t think about that figure-hugging, waist-cinching dress just waiting for her at the corner of the store, calling out to her in a voice that suspiciously sounds like Nicola, _oh honey you know you want to buy me instead - you’d look fabulous, much better than Rosalyn -_ _  
_   
She scowls at the image of her in the full-length mirror, suddenly noticing all the ways the purple dress doesn’t suit her figure - how it shows off very little cleavage and how it hangs off her curves like a sack, and her nose crinkles as she tries to adjust it , pulling it around her waist - but she looks ridiculous, this floral bag wrapped around her, and she might as well just buy that green dress outside that’s amazing and sexy and shows off just the right amount of skin for Matt to take notice -   
  
_No._   
  
She shakes her head vehemently, telling herself that it is pointless to get the green dress. She points a finger at her face in the glass, a warning look in her eyes as she very firmly tells herself to _get it together, Alex - not everyone is interested in Matthew fucking Smith_ and she repeats this, over and over again in her head until she believes it.   
  
She stays in the dressing room for over an hour, contemplating and staring at her reflection. By the time she unlocks the fitting room door the shop assistants on shift are looking at her in concern and she knows that they’re probably wondering why the bloody hell she took one whole hour to try out one dress. She puts on her best smile, swallowing the uneasy lump in her throat as she approaches the cashier with the dress in hand, her eye avoiding the corner of the room where she _knows_ that green dress is, like she can feel its very presence calling out to her.   
  
“Is that all, ma’am?” the young girl at the counter asks very politely, smiling kindly at Alex as she scans the barcode on the floral bag-dress.   
  
“Yes, thank you.”   
  
“Are you sure? We have a sale on this gorgeous dress that would look fantastic on you - would you like to take a look?” and before Alex can say no, she gestures to the far end of the shop that Alex knows all too well, because she’s spent the past hour trying to decide whether or not it was worth buying that dress. “It’s that green one over there, ma’am, we’ve got it down to half-price for just a few more days - and I’m sure you’ll look just amazing, ma’am -”   
  
“It’s okay, but I’m really not interested in getting anything else -” Alex says, sounding more resolute in her decision than she feels, but she’s not about to let anybody else know that.   
  
“But it really would look amazing ma’am,” the girl says, obviously determined to sell the dress. Alex rolls her eyes and is about to say something quite rude when she notices that the girl is eyeing her up and down, admiring her in a way her own husband hasn’t had the time or energy to do - squinting as eager pupils travel over the curve of her chest and her waist, clearly imagining the way the green satin fabric would cling to her figure before her eyes snap back up to her face again. The girl blushes a little, clearing her throat sheepishly at being caught blatantly enjoying the view, and gestures towards the dress again, saying with slightly more confidence, “I really think you should buy it, ma’am - it’s much cheaper than normal and you definitely suit the cutting -” the poor girl goes on and on about the sale and her figure and _oh my gosh, you’ll definitely look stunning in this, ma’am, I guarantee it_ and in the end Alex gives in - a grand total of one and a half minutes later.   
  
One and a half minutes of only half-listening to the rambling salesgirl and instead turning her attention to the dress, biting her lip and tilting her head to the side - it _is_ half priced, and she doesn’t need to wear it to _this_ particular party - she can just get it, just in case. Just in case Matt accidentally spills some wine all over her purple floral bag-dress - unfortunate if that happens, really, but she wouldn’t exactly put it past Matt to manage something like that within the first few minutes of their evening.   
  
So she walks out of the store not less than five minutes later, a purple floral dress in one bag and a form-fitting green dress in another, determined to show up to the party looking as effortlessly beautiful as she can. When she finally reaches home, there’s a little over three hours to get ready - way more than enough time for her to take a shower, do her makeup and her hair, and choose one pair of shoes that would go well with the _purple dress_ , she reminds herself.   
  
She takes her time in the shower, poking and prodding herself, scrubbing as thoroughly as she can - and when she gets out she sees that she’s gotten a text from Matt - a selfie of him in the mirror, his hair styled and his dress shirt halfway buttoned, a smirk on his face. There’s a small caption at the bottom of the photo - _Getting ready now. how do i look?;)_ _  
_ _  
_ She raises her eyebrows at the risque picture before a thought crosses her mind and her own smirk appears across her face, widening slowly. She peels the shower robe off her shoulders just enough to reveal the tops of her breasts, angles the camera in one hand and smiles innocently, snapping a few photos of her undressed state. It takes her a couple of tries, but when she finally finds one photo that’s satisfactory she immediately sends it to him with the caption - _You look amazing, husband. What do you think of my outfit?_ _  
_   
She smiles at the screen of her phone, waiting for a reply. A few minutes pass and he still hasn’t typed yet, so she assumes that he’s been taken for some photoshoot of the cast before the party - but right as she goes to put her phone down, her screen lights up. It’s a call from Matt.   
  
“Honey?”   
  
“Alex,” he groans into the phone, and she stifles a delighted giggle - that’s his sexually frustrated voice, and she can feel the tension through the phone. “You can’t just send things like that while I’m at work and not expect me to -”   
  
“Oh, I _definitely_ expected you to, honey.” she answers, her voice low and breathy, just the way he likes it - and her reward for it is another groan followed by a string of curses.   
  
“Alex!” he protests, “I was in a roomful of people - anyone could’ve seen that photo and I - god, Rosalyn was there, and she almost saw your fucking breasts -”   
  
“Honey, you of all people know that I’m not shy.” she frowns, and she knows she sounds defensive but Matt sounds like he’s genuinely angry at her for sending pictures that he used to appreciate.   
  
“That’s not the point,” he sighs, as if she’s the one being ridiculous and unreasonable. “I’m at work, love, and I can’t go walking around with a hard on all day. People might get the wrong idea.”   
  
She remains silent, not sure how to answer that - it hadn’t mattered, back when they were first married. She could send him dozens and dozens of nude photos of herself and he wouldn’t bat an eye - he’d never bothered what anyone else thought of him. Now, she couldn’t even send one semi-nude photo of herself without him claiming that it would seem unprofessional of him if he spent his time on set trying not to think about wanking to his wife’s nudes.   
  
“Right,” she says, and she’s horrified to hear that her throat is all clogged up, and that she’s trying to hold back tears. She summons up all her training at RADA, her voice acting abilities, and she pastes a smile on her face - because she heard that the very act of smiling could improve her mood and right now, she needs it. “I’m sorry darling, I just thought you’d - well, I just - I’m sorry.” she ends lamely, and she feels like hitting herself on the head because it feels like she just can’t do anything right these days.   
  
“Alex,” he breathes, clearly sensing that she’s upset. There’s more frustration than anger in his tone, but she can still tell that he’s annoyed, and she tries to hold back a small sob. “You look - you’re so _fucking_ gorgeous, love, you know that but I - I’d rather you save it for when I can touch you. Is that okay?”   
  
“Yes - no, I - yes, of course it is,” she hurries through her words. She bites her lip, hanging her head before apologising again, “I really am sorry, Matt.”   
  
“No, don’t be,” he says, and she’s so pleased to sense the smile in his voice again that everything else just clears up. “You shouldn’t ever apologise for being so, so sexy, sweetheart.”   
  
She smiles into the phone bashfully, about to reply when she hears a voice on the other end of the line, speaking very quietly, as if whispering in Matt’s ear. Matt replies, his voice a whisper too - and Alex squints her eyes before she realises that those aren’t the correct senses for her to be straining. She presses the phone closely to her ear but she still can’t make out what they’re saying, and when Matt comes back to the phone the first thing out of her mouth is a nonchalant, “Who was that?”   
  
“Oh, just Rosalyn with some schedule changes.” he says.   
  
Alex raises her eyebrows. “Isn’t that what PAs are for?”   
  
“Mine is busy with - I don’t even know, actually.” he admits, but before she can question him further on that he says hurriedly, “Listen honey, I’ve got to go now - but five o’clock sharp at the doorstep okay? I’ll see you then. Bye, love.”   
  
He hangs up without waiting for a reply and she stares at the screen of her phone, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. What was Rosalyn doing with the schedules? Surely a star like her couldn’t be bothered with managing other people’s call times and rehearsals - she hardly seems like the type with the patience or the brainpower. And why was Matt all of a sudden so eager to get away from the phone when Rosalyn appeared like that?   
  
A little seed of doubt plants itself in her mind and she desperately tries to squash it down, taking in deep breaths and turning almost instinctively towards the photo on the nightstand at his side of the bed. He looks so in love and so full of devotion like that, on one knee and his eyes bright as he looks up at her, and she looks ecstatic, the smile on her face so wide it brightens up the room, and the moisture in her eyes as she looks down at him, hardly believing that he was choosing to spend the rest of his life with her.   
  
She fixates on that, on how she felt that night when he asked her to marry him, how he practically jumped with joy when she said yes, how they made love all night and then some afterwards. She shuts her eyes and remembers what it felt like when she didn’t need to do this - when she hadn’t needed a ritual to remember that she was cherished, when pictures weren’t the only proof that she was loved.   
  
She sighs and stares at the purple floral dress, swallowing a little before she ignores the voice in the back of her head that tells her she’s reading too much into it - because the last time she listened to that voice, she’d been made a fool by the man she’d given her life to. She picks the green one up, slips the satin fabric over her head and hopes that it’s enough.


	5. hope that eases the pain so you remember to miss me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from La La Lost You by NIKI, 88rising

When Matt shows up fifteen minutes later than promised, Alex is already anxious, almost positive that he’s about to cancel on her or change his mind and decide that he doesn’t want her there. She checks her phone obsessively but there isn’t any call or message from him, so she waits at the living room, her clutch in hand and heels that are a little higher than usual on her feet.   
  
She sits in the silence, a glass of wine in her hand just in case a text from Matt comes saying that he’s sorry but he doesn’t think he can make it to fetch her. She’s almost convinced herself that he isn’t going to show up when she hears keys in the lock of her front door, and a smile steals across her face.   
  
Matt comes in, fully dressed in a three-piece suit. A smile blooms on his face when he catches sight of her, whistling appreciatively.   
  
“You look,” he pauses, contemplating, before he shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “I can’t find the right word to describe you - beautiful? Breathtaking? Jaw-droppingly stunning? Heart-stoppingly gorgeous?”   
  
She shakes her head in laughter, very pleased by the onslaught of compliments out of her husband’s mouth - such a rare occasion nowadays that she’s come to appreciate it all the more.   
  
“Thank you darling, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She stands from her place on the couch and walks towards him, straightening his tie a little. “But I’m still waiting for an explanation as to why you’re late.”   
  
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, a tinge of red creeping up his cheeks and his ears. “I got into a little... well, I broke something. Had to replace it - luckily, Rosalyn was there to help me pick out the exact same table, down to the shade of the wood. It was a nightmare, honestly.”   
  
“Oh, yes, very lucky Rosalyn helped you out.” she says, trying to sound pleased that he made a friend and not irrationally jealous, even though alarm bells are ringing in her head. She finishes adjusting the tie, her fingers lingering on his chest.   
  
He smiles a little wider as he grasps her hands and tugs her closer, their torsos touching. He leans in and nudges his nose with hers, and she bites her lip as her hands slip up his shoulders and around his neck.   
  
“I’ve been wanting to do this since you sent that picture, you naughty little minx,” he growls against her lips before he crashes his mouth down to hers, kissing her hungrily and passionately, so full of lust and desire that she melts against him at the attention. “You looked so damn _delicious_ .”   
  
“Mmm,” she hums, as he plants kisses against her cheeks and along her jaw, moving down to her neck. She squeezes his shoulder and shuts her eyes when he bites that spot on her neck that makes her moan. He moves his lips back up to her face again, kissing her again and again as she tries to speak. “Do we have time for this?”   
  
“No,” he says, even as his lips claim hers again, kissing thoroughly. When she pulls back, she’s pretty sure her lips are swollen but it feels oh so good - and the lipstick stain on the corner of his mouth seems like a very good look on him. He grins as he rests his forehead against hers, his hands caressing her sides through her dress. “But the moment we get home we’re continuing this.”   
  
“Sounds like a plan,” she says breathlessly. She’s pretty sure the grin on her face is idiotic but she _loves_ that he wants her, that he still finds her sexy and desirable. “Let’s get a move on then.”   
  
It takes an hour for them to get to the party - traffic conditions are not ideal, and that, of course, means that by the time they reach the place, the party is already in full swing. People are dancing and gathering at the free bar, and to Alex’s extreme amusement, there’s even a dancing pole and a stage set up in the corner of the room. There isn’t anyone on it yet, but by the end of the night she’s sure that there will be some performances she'll never forget. She grins as she looks at Matt, her eyebrows raised. But before he can get a word out of his mouth, a cheerful greeting by one of Matt’s co-stars interrupts them.   
  
“Matt! Alex!” Tony waves his hand from the free bar, shaking Matt’s hand enthusiastically and giving Alex a light peck on each cheek. He pulls back, his eyebrows raised as he takes Alex in. He turns to Matt. “If I were you I wouldn’t let her out of my sight today.”   
  
“I don’t plan on it,” Matt says, a mock glare playing in his eyes. “Especially not with you around.”   
  
“Oh, I’ll be the least of your worries, Matt, I assure you.” Tony laughs, and Alex fights the urge not to go as red as a tomato from the conversation they’re having.   
  
“Oh, shush, both of you.” she scolds, ignoring Matt’s small smirk and Tony’s hearty laughter. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”   
  
“That’s not true,” Matt leans in, suddenly very serious. Alex frowns as he places his lips next to her ear and whispers very lowly, “I distinctly remember flattery getting me in your bed that first night we had -”   
  
“Matthew!” she scolds, flushing red as Tony erupts in even more raucous laughter, throwing his head back.   
  
“Well, I suppose that’s my cue to leave you two alone,” he jokes, though he makes no move to leave their company. “The rest of the group are having drinks at the bar over there - once you’re done being nauseatingly in love.”   
  
Alex raises her eyebrows in surprise but Tony doesn’t notice. Neither does Matt, for that matter - he’s all smiles as he presses a kiss to her hair and pulls her more snugly into his side. Tony departs after a few minutes of polite conversation, pointing in the direction of the other cast members as he leaves and telling them that they’d saved a spot for them.   
  
He walks her over to the bar, where the rest of his friends are sitting. She sees a few familiar faces - Sophie, Greg, Rachel and Tim, and those she hasn’t met yet introduce themselves very enthusiastically, with wide smiles and firm handshakes - a very lean and tall black girl introduces herself as Mikayla before throwing her arms around her, gripping her in a tight hug. Matt chuckles before whispering in her ear that he’s going to get some drinks for the both of them.   
  
Once she disentangles herself from Mikayla’s arms, she looks around at all the happily chatting faces and can’t help but notice that someone is missing from the group.   
  
“Where’s Rosalyn?” she asks Mikayla, who has very subtly shifted her seat so that she was sitting beside Alex. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”   
  
“She is - she disappeared about half an hour ago, said she wanted to get ready for some surprise.” Mikayla claps her hands like a little child getting offered ice cream. “Oh, I can’t wait - Rosalyn _never_ disappoints, honestly.”   
  
“Sounds great!” says Alex, with all the sincerity she can muster - which honestly isn’t all that much.   
  
The conversation continues, and really Alex is having such a good time she never realises just how much time passed. Matt’s friends are inclusive in everything, funny, friendly and extremely entertaining that Alex finds herself more content to just watch them interact with each other than do the interacting herself. She soon finds that they are all a bunch of rather daring people - but then again, as a group of young, single and extremely attractive men and women she supposes she shouldn’t have expected anything less as they all cheered and hurrayed when someone suggested that they start doing shots at barely eight o’clock.   
  
It’s quite a while before she realises that Matt never came back with the drinks - and she’s about to go in search of him when her phone rings quite insistently in her purse. She checks the caller ID and sighs tiredly when she sees that it’s her agent from London calling - she isn’t in the mood to get rejected by anyone today.   
  
She contemplates letting it ring but ultimately she just wants to know if she has a job this summer, so she steps outside of the bar for a few moments, breathing in the cold night air as she wraps her arms around herself and curses the thin fabric of this dress for not doing anything to protect her from the chilly wind.   
  
“Hello?” she answers, sounding much more weary than she’d intended.   
  
“Alex!” her agent greets, sounding so extremely cheerful that she feels a smile spreading across her own face out of its own accord. “You did it, honey - you got the part!”   
  
“I did?” she asks, smiling even though the news hasn’t sunken in yet. She lets out a little puff of laughter and resists the urge to jump and scream ecstatically because - _oh my god, she got the part!_ “Are you - are you _absolutely_ sure?”   
  
“Yes!” her agent screams down the phone line, sounding just as pleased and excited as Alex does. “Okay so, they start filming end of May - I know it’s short notice, darling, but you were cast so late - they told me they scoured entire cities for actresses but couldn’t find one that was as perfect as you and - you know what, I’m a little too emotional for this.” her agent tells her, still oozing the same joy and happiness in her tone. “I’ll text you the details. I’m so proud of you, Alex. I knew you’d find something like this sooner or later.”   
  
“Thank you, Lizzie.” she says, touched at the note of complete and utter sincerity in the woman’s voice as she says that. “I owe you a huge dinner when I get to London - remind me, okay?”   
  
She chats with her agent on the phone for a few more minutes, the thrill and excitement of being cast in a show and actually working again after months of rejections from producers completely offsetting the coldness of the weather. She grins at her phone, her heart soaring as she turns back towards the bar in search of Matt - she had to find him and tell him the good news - he’ll be so happy to hear that she’s going back to work again, even if it’s in London. He knows how she’s been going stir crazy at home with nothing to do but to paint and clean, and she smiles a little when she thinks that all those months of feeling untalented and worthless is finally coming to an end.   
  
She finds Matt on the dance floor. For a minute there her heart stops because he’s laughing entirely too much and he looks like he’s had one too many glasses already - and he’s dancing with someone. A pillar is obstructing her view but she can very clearly see Matt talking and laughing away with someone, and she quickens her pace, rounding the pillar and praying to god that it isn’t who she thinks it is.   
  
It’s Greg and Tim. She swallows and laughs to herself in relief because of course it isn’t her. Matt wouldn’t ever - and if he did, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Probably.   
  
She grins as she approaches the dancing trio, rolling her eyes at some of the most ridiculous moves they make - honestly, how are they allowed in public? Once she gets close enough to them, her smile widens as a thought occurs to her and she starts walking slower, her walk becoming more of a dance as she sways her hips from side to side in time with the music, inching towards Matt slowly.   
  
Greg is the first to notice, and he nudges Tim, discreetly signalling that they should leave the two alone. Alex is extremely grateful for their tact, and reminds herself to thank them later. Matt, however, is completely oblivious, looking around suddenly and wondering where his two dancing partners had disappeared off to.   
  
“Hello, sweetie.” she purrs once she’s close enough, and Matt jumps a mile into the air. “I’ve got some news for you.”   
  
“Hang on, love,” he says distractedly, still frowning as he squints in one direction. “Did you see Tim and Greg?”   
  
“Don’t worry about them, they went to get more drinks.”   
  
“That’s rude.” he blinks. He doesn’t even look at her once. “Didn’t even ask me, those buggers.”   
  
“Matt, listen,” she says, ignoring his still annoyed stare at the bar, as if he was trying to find the backs of Greg and Tim and curse them with his gaze. “Remember that audition I had a while ago? Well, I got the part!”   
  
“Oh,” he says, smiling slightly but he still isn’t looking at her. “That’s wonderful, love, congratulations.”   
  
She blinks. “Matt, it’s that title role - the lead role - in that UK TV drama that I was telling you about and I got cast in it! I did it!”   
  
“Yes, you did.” he looks down at her, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes and she can clearly tell that he hasn’t been paying attention to what she was saying. “I’m so glad for you, love.”   
  
She sighs and slips her hands off his shoulder, frowning. “You didn’t even hear what I said, did you?”   
  
“‘Course I did, Alex - you got a part. That’s great! I’m just a little -”   
  
“Uninterested.” she finishes, and she doesn’t stick around to see the flash of surprise in his eyes. She stalks away, her arms folded across her chest as she heads for the ladies’ room - the one place she knows he can’t follow her into.   
  
The toilets are blissfully empty when she enters and she wipes the tears building at the corner of her eyes hastily, sighing and leaning her elbows on the sink. She can’t believe her _agent_ , who was halfway around the world, had managed to sound more excited and proud of her over the goddamn phone than her bloody husband had been when he was right in front of her. The thought makes a small sob rip from her throat and she shuts her eyes, covering her face with her hands - thank god for waterproof mascara. No matter how hard she tries she just can’t suppress tears anymore and she’s too worn out to stop them, so she just lets them flow freely.   
  
Her heart clenches and aches in her chest and it’s like a constant presence now, whenever he shows signs of pulling away from her. She’s so tired of feeling this way - of feeling unwanted and undesired and unloved, and the thought that comes into her mind straight after that is _then leave._   
  
For the first time since the thought crossed her mind, she seriously considers it. She considers leaving him, because it’s so painstakingly obvious that he isn’t as in love with her as she is with him, that he isn’t as _invested_ . It’s bringing back awful memories that she’s kept buried in the last twenty years, terrible feelings she swore she’d never feel again, and she can’t continue this - if Matt keeps it up, she could break. _Totally_ break.   
  
But she thinks of when he picked her up that night - how he kissed her when he saw her, so passionately and desperately, as if he just _had_ to. She thinks of how he looked at her as he entered the house, how his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She remembers how she felt when he showered her with compliments, and she clings onto that feeling, shutting her eyes tight. She just _can’t_ break down now, with Matt and his friends right through the door - so she pastes a smile on her face, wipes the tears from her eyes and exits the toilet, immediately scanning the room for Matt.   
  
She frowns, realising that the room has darkened for some reason, and the horrid music that had been blasting through the speakers before has been replaced by a slower, more seductive beat, and her hearts beat faster in her chest because she hopes to god he isn’t on the dancefloor with Rosalyn while _this_ is playing.   
  
However, when she steps out of the corridor leading to the toilets the blinding, flashing lights hit her eyes almost immediately and she squints out of instinct, her head whipping towards where almost everyone is gathered now - by the stage and the pole in the corner of the room. People are cheering and catcalling and Alex curses under her breath because it’s Rosalyn.   
  
Rosalyn is on the stage, clad in a corset and fishnet stockings, with stilettos on her feet. She looks sexy and sinful as her hips sway in time to the beat and she twirls around the pole expertly to more shouts and catcalls, a naughty smirk on her face and Alex clenches her jaw and thinks how she might as well have worn the purple dress-bag to this party because no one is going to look at her while Rosalyn is looking like _that_ .   
  
She steps forward just as Rosalyn crooks her finger towards a member of the audience, her eyes and smile wide with intent, her lips puckered red as she blows a kiss. Alex can’t see who it is she’s called to the stage but she has a gut feeling in her stomach - and she’s proven right when Matt steps onto the stage to more cheers and shouts, his eyes fixed on the olive skinned, scantily clad woman in front of him.   
  
And just like that, she’s exactly where she was twenty years ago - when she should’ve taken the first step and left him before he left her, before he made a move on another woman while he was still _married_ to her, when she should’ve listened to her head instead of her heart and told herself that just because he’d promised her everything doesn’t mean he’d deliver on it. Promises don’t mean anything anymore.   
  
She swallows a growing lump in her throat, and she’s fixed with a decision to leave the bar or watch what Matt does when he has another attractive woman seated across his lap that isn’t his wife. She steels her heart and looks towards the stage, and immediately wishes she hadn’t because the look her husband is giving Rosalyn is entirely too lustful for a married man.   
  
The air in the bar is suffocating and she feels her chest constrict as she tries to take in a deep breath and a sudden realisation hits her all at once - she has to leave. She has to leave the bar before she does something rash and stupid, and she has to leave _him_ before he breaks her into too many pieces that it becomes impossible for her to fix herself.

*

The minute the front door shuts behind her, she cries. She cries and cries and cries, sliding down the front door and dropping her back somewhere on the floor, burying her face into her hands and letting out sobs that shakes her entire frame because _this can’t be fucking happening again._ Matt is interested in another woman.   
  
She tries to stop the tears from falling but all she can see is flashing lights and Matt looking at _her_ with lust in his eyes, the audience cheering them on. All she can see is how when _she’d_ been the one swaying her hips seductively in his face, he hadn’t even batted an eyelash - or even _noticed_ her. How he sounded bored when she told him she’s gotten cast in her first leading role in literally ages. How he didn’t even _try_ to come after her after she’d stormed off, choosing instead to stand, front and center, to watch another woman try and seduce him. How he hadn’t even cared that his wife was in the same room when he went up on stage and allowed Rosalyn to sit on his lap with a naughty smirk on her face.   
  
She doesn’t know how long she stays there, her dress rumpled in the position that she’s sitting in and her eyes red and puffy. When she finally calms herself enough, she drags herself up, wincing as she gains feeling back in her legs and limps towards their bedroom. She slips out of her dress, wipes off her makeup and falls onto the bed, crying herself to sleep.   
  
She stirs when she hears the bedroom door open, and a concerned Matt appears in the doorway, his eyes wide and a small frown on his face as he walks towards his wife and lays a hand on her forehead.   
  
“Honey, are you feeling okay?” He asks softly, brushing her hair out of her face. “Why did you leave without telling anyone - are you sick?”   
  
She frowns up at him, wondering if he’s taking the piss out on her because surely this isn’t right - surely he knows _exactly_ what he’s done and why she’s upset, and he _should_ know, given that he’s the one who practically pulled Rosalyn down onto his lap. He looks genuinely concerned as he stares down at her, waiting for an answer, and she’s too worn and tired to have to explain to him what the bloody hell is wrong, so she just nods and snuggles further into the pillow, letting her curls fall over her face and cover him from her view.   
  
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” He says. “I would’ve driven you home - getting a cab must’ve been so hard, and you were _sick_ -”   
  
“It’s fine, darling.” She waves him off. “You looked like you were having fun and I didn’t want to disturb you.”   
  
He sighs, reaching out to brush her hair out of her face again. He leans down and presses his lips on her forehead, and as he moves closer she inhales. Her heart clenches when she realises he smells just like Rosalyn’s perfume.   
  
A sudden urge to erase whatever marks the other woman might’ve left on him fills her and she grips his lapels, pulling him further down onto her and pressing his lips to hers urgently. She sits up a little, leaning back on one elbow as her fingers tighten against the fabric of his shirt.   
  
“Alex?” He asks breathlessly when he pulls away, dazed and confused. “Feeling better?”   
  
“Yes. Much.” She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and pulls him in for another desperate kiss, moaning and sighing into his mouth as she bites his lips and his tongue gently. He lets out a small gasp, his eyes darkening - and she knows exactly why. Whenever she felt like she needed to go rough, she’d signal it to him by biting during her kisses. She gives him a small smile and leans in, placing her lips next to his ear. “Now, husband, are you ready to fuck me hard?”   
  
“Oh, wife.” He says, a smirk spreading across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”   
  
Gasps and moans fill the air as they both tear at each other’s clothes - she rips the buttons off his expensive shirt but she can’t bring herself to give a damn. He divests her of her pajama top, groaning at the sight of her bare breasts and immediately pulling one nipple into his mouth, biting down sharply and causing her nails to plant themselves in his scalp as a high pitched moan escapes her lips.   
  
While he sucks on her breast, her fingers travel down towards his trousers, finding the belt buckle and undoing them hurriedly, pushing his boxers and his jeans around mid-thigh, just enough for his cock to spring into the air, already fully erect. She doubts it’s because of her.   
  
She clenches her jaw and summons enough energy to flip them over, her smirk widening at the look of surprise that comes over his face. She pulls off her pajama bottom and her knickers, tossing them aside and straddling his hips. She leans down and kisses him slowly, her nails scraping over his chest gently as his hands fiddle with her hair, pulling it roughly and making her bite his lips harshly in punishment, a whimper escaping his lips.   
  
She pulls back, her eyes moving over his kiss-swollen lips with satisfaction. She takes in deep breaths and hooks a finger under his chin, forcing his eyes to hers as she moves her hips up and drops herself down over his erection in one fluid movement. They moan and pant in unison as they take a breath, pausing a moment to just treasure the feel of their joint bodies.   
  
“Leave marks.” He whispers in her ear, reminding her of exactly the reason why she’s asked for it hard and rough today.   
  
“Oh,” she hisses as she moves up and down on him, her nails digging into his chest and scratching, marking her territory into his skin. “I intend to.”   
  
He sits up suddenly, making her lose her balance. He steadies her with firm hands on her hips and bends his head down to her neck, his teeth and lips already working on her pulse point. He guides her hips up and down over him, his grip tight enough to bruise and mark her skin in all the places she knows he enjoys marking her. She wants to enjoy marking him too.   
  
“I wanked to your picture today,” he confesses against her neck, groaning each time she slams her hips down onto him. At that, she lets her legs fall open wider and wraps them around his back, allowing him to hit that spot deep inside her that makes her scream. “I - _fucking_ hell, Alex, you feel so fucking good - I couldn’t help myself, I needed that and you looked so gorgeous and fucking sexy - and it feels like we haven’t made love in so _long_ , baby,” he murmurs, the occasional groan and grunt interrupting his speech as he tries to meet her thrusts as best as he can in their position. “And I know it’s because I’ve been working so late - but the moment we wrap, the moment we finish our last scene - I will be home. I’ll have a four month break before promotions start and we can do nothing but each other the entire time, sweetheart.”   
  
“You wanked to my picture,” she repeats, her nails scratching down his back now. “And then you told me not to send anymore.”   
  
“You’ve got to understand, Alex.” He says, as one hand leaves her hips and reaches up for her breast, cupping them and massaging them as her head falls against his shoulder. “Fucking Rosalyn almost caught me with my cock in my hand.”   
  
“Did she?”   
  
“She asked me what I was doing and I couldn’t fucking say I was imagining my face between your thighs, or you on all fours in front of me, could I?” He groans as she increases the pace, bouncing more vigorously on top of him as she bites down on his shoulder hard. “I couldn’t tell her that all I wanted to do was go home and fuck my wife on every single piece of furniture in our home, could I? We’re not those kinds of friends.”   
  
“Aren’t you?”   
  
He ignores that, instead pulling her face towards him and capturing her lips in another urgent, needy kiss, their teeth clashing and biting onto each other’s lips and tongue, their faces smashed against each other as they try to give as good as they’re getting. She places a hand on his chest and roughly pushes him away from her, making him lose his balance and fall onto the bed. She gives him a predatory smile as she towers over him, bracing one hand on each side of his face as she looks down at him.   
  
“Look at me while I’m fucking you, husband,” she orders, and his eyes snap up to meet hers. Her taking charge in the bedroom has always been a kink of Matt’s and she can’t help but wonder if it applies to other women too, or if it was just for her. She can already sense the excitement radiating off of him, and her lips curl into a sinful little snarl.   
  
“I’ll send you all the nudes I want,” she says lowly, watching his eyes widen with a little satisfaction. “You’ll put your hand over your cock and I don’t care if Rosalyn or any-fucking-one happens to catch you wanking to pictures of me. If they ask what you’re doing you tell them. Tell them you can’t fucking help yourself. Tell them your wife makes you so bloody hard you have to get off instantly. Tell them your wife won’t fuck you when you get home if you don’t wank to her pictures at work - I don’t bloody care. When I send you one, you’ll appreciate it. _Properly_ . Understood?”   
  
It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. She’s fucking him so thoroughly, bouncing up and down his cock but she doesn’t make a fucking sound - her voice doesn’t hitch, she doesn’t let out a single moan or gasp or sigh - she’s fucking magic, and _fuckfuckfuck_ it won’t take long for him to come like this. The tone she uses when she’s in control, her hypnotic voice pulling him in and making him groan and gasp and grunt in pleasure underneath him, is so fucking sexy that he’s reminded of when they used to play their games in the bedroom. It’s been so long since they’ve done it - not since their first wedding anniversary - that he worries that she’ll find it weird, but he can see her read his expression clearly.   
  
“Answer me, slave.” He gives her his brightest grin.   
  
“Yes, my Queen.” He says reverently, his eyes full of awe and admiration as he gazes up at her.   
  
There’s something about the way he looks at her like this, the way he sounds when he calls her his Queen, that makes a small ounce of triumph bubble up in her stomach. The fact that he’s here, fucking her when just a few hours ago there had been another woman in his lap makes her smirk even as her hips starts slamming even harder and faster against his, determined to fuck away any marks on him that hadn’t been made by her.   
  
He comes first, hips stuttering against hers as he lets out a string of curses and finally moans her name loudly into the air around them, his head thrown back. She feels his come shooting inside her and that sets her off, her back arching as she shouts incoherently and collapses on top of him.   
  
When she comes to herself, the first thing she feels is dirtiness - she feels dirty for fucking him while another woman’s scent still clings to his skin, feels dirty for even considering the fact that she could fuck another woman out of his system, feels dirty that she succeeded in fucking her out of him, and as she pushes herself off of him and rolls over to her side of the bed, she swallows and shakes her head off her thoughts, clearing her mind.   
  
She feels Matt sidle up behind her, placing his arms around her torso and pulling her close - he doesn’t smell like Rosalyn anymore, and for that she’s grateful, because if he did she doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep in the same bed with him tonight. Or ever.   
  
“You know, baby,” he whispers low in her ear, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. He slips his fingers between her thighs and begins stroking her gently, and of all the conflicting feelings she feels at that action, the one that really wins out is desire for her husband. “I haven’t tasted you for a long time.” He turns her over and settles himself over her, smiling as he plants small kisses on her lips, his fingers still stroking her centre. “And I haven’t had any dinner yet.”   
  
“Mmm,” she says, her fingers reaching up to move hair out of his face. “Going straight for dessert, are we?”   
  
“Oh no,” he whispers, sliding down her body. He curls his fingers around her thighs and brings them over his shoulders, the smile on his face sinful as he eyes her folds like he’s a starving man and it’s a three-course meal in front of him. “You’re more like the main course - just having you is enough to satisfy me.”   
  
She bites her lip as he dips his head and darts his tongue out, wishing that he wouldn’t lie to her about being _enough_ .   
  
*   
  
“There’s something wrong with you.” Nicola says.   
  
On the rare occasion that Nicola calls, and on the even rarer occasion that Alex is available to answer it, they’ve always shared a few hours of conversation about their spouses and offsprings - more often than not to complain about them, but this time Alex hadn’t mentioned Matt or anything about their marriage even once so that Nicola wouldn’t know that her third marriage was falling apart. Evidently, she hadn’t given her sister enough credit because within ten minutes of their little chat, she’d already guessed that there was something going on.   
  
“No, there isn’t,” she tries, waving the statement away like it was a ridiculous notion. “How are the little ones -”   
  
“You’re a terrible liar, sister dearest,” her sister sing songs on the other end of the line, making Alex roll her eyes.   
  
“Honestly, can’t we have one conversation without you feeling the need to dissect every single thing that’s happening in my life?” Alex asks exasperatedly. She doesn’t want to taint the conversation with what’s happening to her marriage - a phone call with her sister is the one thing that she’s been looking forward to in her personal life, and with everything that’s happening between her and Matt, she wants her sister’s dry and sarcastic humour to get her through everything and remind herself that some things never change. And even though she’d never admit it to her sister, she quite enjoys talking on the phone with her - it’s like being back in England again, surrounded by people she loves who love her back - and sometimes, if she closes her eyes and presses her phone closer to her ear, takes a sip of her tea and just listens to her sister talk, it feels like she is home.   
  
“Oh, you’re a touchy one today aren’t you?” Her infuriating sister says jokingly, before she lets out a gasp and says, “Oh, God, it’s something that’s got to do with Matt, isn’t it?”   
  
“What? No, I didn’t say that -” Alex hurries to stir the conversation elsewhere but Nicola isn’t having it, interrupting her quickly. “Honestly, Nic - just drop it -”   
  
“ _Definitely_ trouble in paradise then,” Nicola says smartly, and Alex stifles a frustrated groan. “What, three years of marriage with the perfect man and only now he’s starting to make mistakes? Do tell.”   
  
“It’s _nothing_ , Nicola, can we just -”   
  
“Don’t even try changing the subject now, Alex, it won’t work on me. What’s he done, then? Left his socks on the floor one too many times? Forgot to put the toilet seat down? Does he expect you to cook dinner _and_ do the dishes, that horrible man?” Nicola mocks, and Alex holds the phone away from her ear to take a deep breath, reminding herself that flying all the way to England to murder her sister just wasn’t worth the time, money or effort. “Oh wait,” she pauses, and Alex braces herself, “Has it got something to do with sex?” She lets out a dramatic gasp. “Can he not get it up?”   
  
Alex rolls her eyes and mutters, “He’s getting it up, alright. Just last night, actually.”   
  
“Then what’s the problem?”   
  
“He -” Alex sighs and sags against the couch, staring at the wedding photo on the mantel. “I think he doesn’t...”   
  
“Yes, doesn’t what?” Nicola asks, waiting for an answer.   
  
She lets out another heavy sigh and thinks about the last few months - every single thing that’s happened between them since he’s left Who, and how he’s been acting towards her, towards _Rosalyn_ , how he reacted to her sending semi-nudes, and how he left her to cry in the washroom while he stood, front and centre while his young, sexy costar gave the entire bar a stripper show.   
  
“He doesn’t love me anymore,” she blurts out, her lips trembling and her eyes shut tight against the tears building.   
  
Nicola lets out a bubble of laughter and Alex rests her head in her hands, sighing tiredly.   
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex, the man looks at you like you’re the bloody moon.” She says in disbelief. “What’s got you thinking that way - is he not interested in bed anymore? That can’t be it, you just said that you did it yesterday -”   
  
“No - no, sex isn’t the problem.” Alex rushes to clear her throat, but just thinking about how her entire marriage fell apart so quickly in the last few months causes tears to fall from her eyes. Her voice sounds thick with emotion as she murmurs, “I don’t know, Nic. He’s been so - so _distant_ and he doesn’t - he doesn’t _care_ anymore -”   
  
The silence on the other end of the line is extremely deafening, and she holds her breath because Nicola is only quiet when she’s very upset, or very, _very_ , angry.   
  
“What did he do?” She asks, all teasing lost, replaced by silent, seething anger and fury, and Alex can _feel_ it through the phone, even a million miles away from her hometown. “Alex, tell me exactly what he did. I have the entire day free today -”   
  
“Don’t lie - you were just talking about a new cooking class -”   
  
“Yeah, well sod the goddamn cooking class, Alex, there’re more important things in life than learning two hundred thousands ways to cook fucking beef stroganoff -”   
  
“Okay, okay!” Alex surrenders, because once Nicola starts cursing there really isn’t any way to stop her than to let her get her own way. “There’s been a few... well, he’s done some things that I just... well, they aren’t good signs, let’s just put it that way -”   
  
“Alexandra, you are going to tell me every single thing he did that made you think that he doesn’t love you anymore, because it must be a _fat load_ of absolute _shit_ for you to think that way - honestly, I was at your _wedding_ and the last time we spoke you sounded like you were over the bloody _moon_ , boring me with details about how _happy_ he made you and now suddenly, after a few months, you’re telling me that he doesn’t love you?” Nicola rants, her tone full of disbelief.   
  
“He’s been - well, he hasn’t exactly been... attentive lately.” She starts carefully. “I mean - I know he’s been working and all of that but - Nicola, he missed our anniversary.” She swallows the tears and shuts her eyes. “He missed our anniversary and he didn’t even know it until he came home - and he apologised, but I just - it’s only been three years and he’s already missing dates and anniversaries and - and almost _everything_ , really.”

  
She tries in vain to keep the tears at bay but it doesn’t work because she can feel the tears prickling at her eyelids as she admits, “and - and there’s been someone else,” she pauses, and when Nicola doesn’t respond to that she quickly continues, “I think that she - the other person - she’s trying to get Matt’s attention and Matt isn’t doing anything to stop her, and I think maybe he... _wants_ it. Her.”   
  
“Right. Okay.” Nicola sounds entirely too calm and Alex winces because she knows that her sister is just brimming with fury, and the calmness is just something she uses to appear cool and collected. “Mmhmm. Just a question - what’s the minimum penalty for vehicular manslaughter in the US? Maybe if I just... accidentally run him over with a truck then maybe I can -”   
  
“You are not running anyone over in the US - or anywhere, Nicola.” Alex says, as sternly as she can, a reluctant grin spreading across her face at her sister’s ridiculously endearing protectiveness.   
  
“Do you really think he’s... doing _that_ ?” Nicola asks seriously, and Alex sobers instantly at the tone her sister is using - an odd mixture of doubt and sympathy and anger.   
  
“I think if he isn’t doing it now there isn’t anything stopping him from doing it in the future.” Alex says honestly.   
  
“What about you? Why aren’t you stopping him?”   
  
“You know why,” she says, shaking her head. “If he wants to do it, no matter how much I try to stop him, he’ll end up doing it anyway. Why bother delaying what’s inevitable? The only person who ends up hurt is me, anyway.” She sighs and continues quietly, “I think it’s time to leave, Nic. I can’t continue like this anymore.”   
  
“Honey, if you really think that’s what best then don’t let me stop you -”   
  
“I can sense a ‘but’ coming.”   
  
“- but,” Nicola says, “before you leave or make any rash decisions - honey, just talk to him. Have you even tried telling him any of this - how you’re feeling and what he’s doing with that other girl?”   
  
“I can’t,” she confesses, “I’ve tried telling him about it but I just - the words won’t come out -”   
  
“Why not?” Nicola sounds incredulous.   
  
“Because, Nic!” Alex snaps. “What if I tell him, ask him what the hell he’s doing and - and it’s all _true_ ? What if he’s just waiting for me to realise that he just isn’t interested anymore?”   
  
“And you’d rather just leave with just the assumption that he’s -”   
  
“I have to,” Alex swallows. “Because I can’t - I can’t hear him say it. He’s still - he’s my husband, Nic, and just because he’s done something like this doesn’t mean I don’t love him anymore. But I just - I can’t hear him say that he’s fallen out of love with me.”   
  
Her voice cracks and a tear escapes her eye but she wipes it away hastily with the back of her hand, turning and burying her face into a cushion.   
  
“Oh honey,” Nicola says sympathetically, “What are you going to do?”   
  
Alex swallows, and closes her eyes.   
  
“I have to leave. Before he does.”   
  
*   
  
When he reaches home, he immediately knows there’s something wrong. The house is entirely too quiet - but that isn’t it, Alex could be out with friends, or sleeping soundly in their bedroom - it is past midnight, after all. He looks around carefully - there’s something out of place, but he can’t tell what. Out of instinct, he checks all the rooms, ensuring that there isn’t a burglar anywhere and that the place is safe - but he doesn’t see an intruder, and yet a chill still runs down his spine as he looks around, unable to point a finger at what’s wrong.   
  
Alex isn’t in their bedroom, but that’s fine, she’s probably with one of her friends - she doesn’t go out very much, but when she does, she always stays late. He doesn’t blame her - he hardly expects her to wait around for him to come home after late night shoots.   
  
He plugs his phone in the charger and looks around again, frowning as his senses become even more alert by the minute - he still can’t quite tell what’s wrong with the place. His eyes trace each detail carefully, moving over the sofa and the cupboards, the television and the mantel place and -   
  
Their wedding picture.   
  
He stalks over to it, his frown becoming even more pronounced when he sees that the picture of them getting married isn’t in its frame. He picks it up - and when he sees a shiny piece of metal catching the light, along with a small piece of paper under it, his confusion intensifies and he picks both of them up, weighing the ring in his hands as his eyes trace over the paper with Alex’s neat handwriting.   
  
Her wedding ring. She left her wedding ring at home. What exactly is going on?   
  
He ignores the little voice in his head telling him something bad has happened - because surely Alex wouldn’t leave him with a letter, right? That’s not something people would do after three years of marriage, after five years of being together - and why would Alex leave at all? She was probably just with Jen or one of her friends from London was visiting - she did mention something about London at the cast party.   
  
He calms his pounding heart and forces himself to sit down before reading the letter - and though every nerve is screaming at him that something had happened to Alex, that something was wrong with her, his eyes scan the letter. And his heart stops beating altogether.   
  
_Matt._ _  
_ _  
_ _I’m very sorry to be doing this in a letter, darling, but every time I try to tell you this my mind doesn’t want to cooperate - or maybe it’s my heart. Either way, I have to get this off my chest like this, otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have the strength to do it._ _  
_ _  
_ _I need you to know that I don’t blame you. I hoped, for a long while, that we would be different - that others were wrong, that we could last forever, and we would. But love has never been my strong suit. Because love has brought me pain and loneliness and heartache._ _  
_ _  
_ _But your love has only ever brought me happiness and joy - the kind I’ve never known before. You loved me for longer than I ever thought possible. I was incredibly happy and content where we were but sometimes it isn’t enough - for either of us. And I understand that, but I tried to hold on as long as I could - and I realise it now. I can’t go through that again, Matthew. I won’t._ _  
_ _  
_ _So this is what this letter is. If it all goes to plan I’ll be on board a plane to London now. It’s alright, darling, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. As a matter of fact, please, please don’t say or do anything. I know you’ll feel obligated to come after me, or talk to me after reading this but just - please don’t. Make it easier for me, darling. Just stay here - we’ll sort it all out soon enough. I can handle things from London - it won’t be necessary for us to meet at all._ _  
_ _  
_ _I suppose, very very deep down, I’ve always known that having you was too good to be true. I will never regret marrying you, or being with you, or loving you - I’ll always regret being unable to keep your love. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough - you were always good enough. Thank you._ _  
_ _  
_ _Love, always,_ _  
_ _  
_ _Alex._


	6. maybe we just weren't right - but that's a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You made the right choice. You made the right choice. You made. The right. Choice.
> 
> Those words ring in her head throughout her journey. She can’t keep the tears from falling in the cab, and she cries silently in the backseat as she tries to avoid the cab driver’s concerned glances on the rearview mirror. She doesn’t miss the irony in her situation - that she’s exactly where she was 20 years ago. Leaving her husband and their home for a job in another country - something she never thought she’d do again. Something she never thought she’d have to go through again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Almost Is Never Enough by Ariana Grande ft. Nathan Sykes

_You made the right choice. You made the right choice. You made. The right. Choice._   
  
Those words ring in her head throughout her journey. She can’t keep the tears from falling in the cab, and she cries silently in the backseat as she tries to avoid the cab driver’s concerned glances on the rearview mirror. She doesn’t miss the irony in her situation - that she’s exactly where she was 20 years ago. Leaving her husband and their home for a job in another country - something she never thought she’d do again. Something she never thought she’d have to go through again.   
  
And yet here she is.   
  
The only difference is that now, as she leaves, she’s still questioning her decision to leave. With her first husband, leaving was the only course of action that was possible, and she does not regret that one bit. But now, with Matt - she can’t help the niggle of doubt that nags in the back of her mind, asking her if the choice she made was the right one.  
  
Still, she doesn’t look back. She continues on, boards the plane and sits pondering for nine hours, her mind buzzing with so many questions that she can’t seem to fall asleep. She hates herself a bit for that. She’d like to be able to make one decision without questioning whether it was the right thing to do.   
  
She doesn’t know how she gets through all the security checks at the airport, and she can’t clearly remember how she manages to hail a cab, but she reaches her hotel more than two hours after landing. It really, truly sinks in after that, alone in her hotel room, all her belongings in the bags she brought with her - she’s leaving Matt. She’s losing Matt.   
  
And she breaks down. Some small part of her still hopes - still hopes beyond hope that _maybe_ Matt loves her enough to make things right. But the other, bigger part of her, the part that’s winning, is telling her that their time is up. They’ve had their run. And there’s nothing she can do about it anymore.   
  
So she cries herself ragged, cries harder than she’s cried in twenty years, cries until the pillow on her bed is stained with tears and makeup and snot, and she falls asleep before the tears can dry, clutching their wedding picture to her chest.   
  
She wakes up a few hours later, exhausted physically and emotionally. The wedding picture is crumpled in her hand, tears staining the colours. She lets her finger trace their faces, full of love, and a few more tears fall as she realises that she’ll never look at that face again. Matt’s face, full of love - he’ll never look at her like that again.   
  
Her phone rings, startling her out of her sadness. She wipes her tears away and clears her throat, making sure she sounds normal before she answers the phone.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Alex? I have two things to say to you.” Nicola’s voice rings out of her phone, and she almost loses it at the sound of her sister’s voice - the only one who knows what she’s doing, knows what she’s going through. “Number one - I told you to call me once you landed and you never did, you dolt - are you here or not?”  
  
“I’m here. I’m at the hotel.” Alex pauses a while, swallowing a lump in her throat before she says, “And I did it. I left him.”  
  
“I know you did. I called him, straight away when I heard your voicemail - a _letter_? Seriously, Alex? What is this, the 1900s?”   
  
“I’m not in the mood, Nicola.” Alex says, sniffling a little and wiping at her eyes. “Please. Stop. Just - just tell me that I did the right thing. Please.”  
  
“Alex, you know I can’t do that. No one can do that, honey.” Nicola says.   
  
Alex sighs. “I just - this was going to happen. Sooner or later, this was going to happen anyway and it’s better that I just - cut it short, right?”  
  
“It’s a bit too late to be asking yourself that, honey.” Nicola says into the phone. “You already left that letter for him.”  
  
“I know. I know that but - wait, you called him? Did he - was he okay or, or - I don’t know, was he - ”  
  
“He was in shock,” Nicola says sympathetically. “He thought that everything was going great between you two and he had no idea that you feel like you do - which leads me to number two. Why did you not talk to him before leaving, you idiot?”  
  
“I - I _told_ you Nicola, I can’t talk to him and have him tell me that he - ”  
  
“ - that he doesn’t love you anymore, yes. You’ve mentioned.” Nicola says, a little impatiently. “But Alex! The man I spoke on the phone with did _not_ sound like he’d fallen out of love. The man on the phone sounded like he’s losing the most important person in his life, and he has no idea what to do about it.”  
  
“Well, what did he say?” Alex asks cautiously, not quite sure what she’s expecting to hear. Alex’s fingers move over the wedding photo, smoothing the crumples down even though she knows the creases will never fade from the picture.   
  
“Why don’t you hear for yourself?” Nicola asks. “When I told him what was going on he practically hung up on me, said he needed to call you and talk to you. He wouldn’t take any more of my calls after that. I assume he left you a bunch of voicemails?”  
  
“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.” Alex admits. Nicola makes a noise of disbelief. “It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just - I fell asleep right after I checked in, alright?”  
  
“Yes, well - _check_. Now. And see for yourself if you’re still making a mistake or not.” Nicola sighs, and Alex can just tell that her sister is shaking her head. “And honey - don’t be so afraid of being happy that you make yourself miserable for the rest of your life. That’s no way to live.”  
  
“That’s not what I’m doing - ” Alex protests, but Nicola cuts her off before she can finish her sentence.  
  
“Isn’t it?” Nicola demands. “Aren’t you, Alex? You won’t even allow yourself to know for sure if your husband still loves you or not. You’re so afraid that the answer is no, so convinced that he doesn’t still, that you won’t even take a chance - you’d rather live the rest of your life not knowing for certain. You’d rather live miserably without him then ask him.”  
  
“Nicola. That is not what I’m doing, it’s more - it’s more _complicated_ than that - ”  
  
“Alex, we’re not in secondary school anymore. We’re not _teenagers_ anymore. You can’t just keep telling me that just because you know I’m right, so stop using that same damn excuse.” Nicola says sternly. “Okay, I have to go now. Kids are almost ready for school. Remember what I said, and also remember that you might be an idiot but I still love you.”  
  
“Thanks, Nic.” Alex says gratefully. She’s so thankful for her sister, honestly, but a little whisper in her heart reacts automatically to those words. Right words. Wrong person. “I love you too.”  
  
“Who doesn’t?” Nicola says, and Alex laughs. “Bye, Alex.”  
  
Alex says her goodbyes to her sister and hangs up, feeling even more conflicted than before. Is Nicola right? She swallows and glances down at her phone, her heart thumping a little harder in her chest when she sees Matt’s name on her screen.   
  
_32 missed calls from Husband. 74 messages from Husband. 14 voicemails from Husband._  
  
Her finger hovers over her phone screen, hesitating. Does she want to read those messages, or will it just lead to more heartache? And those voicemails - what would he say to her?   
  
She presses the button on the voicemails and presses the phone to her ear, her hands shaking a little.   
  
_“Alex, love, I read the letter and I - what’s happening? Nicola said that you’re leaving but that - it isn’t true, is it? I - when you get - ”_  
  
She breaks down the moment she hears him say her name. He hasn’t spoken to her in that tender, loving voice in ages and she misses it so dearly that she feels her heart fill just at the sound of him speaking to her. The phone slips from her hand as she cries even more, her body shaking as her hand clutches their wedding photo in her hand, crumpling it once again.  
  
She doesn’t realise that the creases in the photo turns into tears until it’s too late.   
  
*  
  
She allows herself one day. One day to wallow about, one day to cry, one day to stare at her torn wedding picture and mourn the love that she once shared with her husband. She tries in vain to tape up the photo but it doesn’t hold together, the tears going through the creases where it was once crumpled. She keeps it anyway - since she doesn’t have the ring anymore, she should be allowed at least one reminder of their marriage.  
  
She can’t help but fiddle with her left ring finger. She’s so used to feeling a weight there - the weight of her wedding ring, but now it just feels empty and naked. She’s used to turning the diamond ring around her finger, fidgeting with it when she’s nervous, but now every time she unconsciously reaches for the ring and feels only her bare skin, her heart sinks again. She tries in vain to wear something else on her finger, another big, shiny ring but it doesn’t feel the same - and it’s not as comfortable to fidget about with a huge rabbit on her finger as it is with her diamond ring.  
  
She listens to the rest of Matt’s messages. She goes to sleep with his voice in her ear, begging her to come home. For a moment she wonders what it would be like if she just hopped on a plane to LA and went back to their house - screw the TV show. Would things change? Would he finally realise how much it hurt for her to be ignored? Or would everything just go back to the way it was - and she’d be stuck there, never finding the courage to leave again, always regretting her choice to not take her leave when there was a chance?   
  
Her heart has been through too much to go through that again. So she doesn’t call. She doesn’t text. She ignores his calls and deletes his messages. But his voicemails - those voicemails, she allows herself that. Just the simple pleasure of listening to Matt’s voice in her ear again.   
  
When she wakes up the next day there are seven more voicemails and she hesitates, wondering if listening to them would be a good start to her day. But she’s already behind on learning her lines and filming starts in two weeks - and unless she wants to be unprepared for the table read that takes place in five days she can’t afford to spend time being distracted by Matt.  
  
She tells herself that she’ll wait until the end of the day, once she’s learnt at least a few dozen pages, to play the voicemails. A little treat for her after a long day of work, before going to bed.   
  
She stays in her hotel room the entire day. She orders room service and sits at the little dining table in her suite, glasses perched on her nose and thick scripts seated next to her, waiting to be memorised. Majority of the day is spent at that little dining table, reading through scripts and reading aloud to herself to figure out how her character should move and sound. She immerses herself in her work, getting lost in the world that she’s reading, forgetting everything that has happened in the past few days.   
  
When she finally comes back to her surroundings, it’s an hour to midnight. She’s been working for over ten hours, and she feels good with the basic characterisation that she’s made up for the one she’s portraying in the TV show. She feels satisfied with all the work she’s done, even if it’s a little tiring cramming all that work into a day’s time frame.  
  
She yawns as she changes into her pajamas, and she doesn’t really like the way her eyes stray to her phone sitting on the bed. She feels annoyed that she can’t help but feel excited to hear his voice again as she falls asleep, feels that maybe she should be trying to get over him and move on - but she’s already stuck with one major project in her career, she doesn’t need to be stuck with another one in her personal life, right? At least, that’s what she tells herself.   
  
So she presses the play button on her phone and holds it against her ear once she’s comfortable in the sheets. She swallows as she hears Matt’s voice in her ear again, her fists balling the sheets beside her as she feels her eyes start to water again - oh, this is ridiculous. She can’t help but feel ridiculous, pining over someone she left in the first place. But she isn’t ready to give this up. If she can’t have him, then she’s at least allowed his voicemails.   
  
She spends the next four days the same way she spends her second day. She thinks about nothing but work until almost midnight and then goes to sleep with Matt’s voice in her ear. She always falls asleep crying, tears staining the covers and wetting her phone, but she can’t stop the tears falling - and she doesn’t want to stop. She doesn’t think she can ever stop crying over losing Matt.   
  
On her fifth day in London - the day before the first table read of the new TV show - she feels her heart ache a little harder, the throbbing in her chest a little more painful than usual. She doesn’t know what’s changed, because when she wakes up there are still missed calls, text messages and voicemail from Matt. She placed their torn wedding photo in her wallet, wanting it close but not wanting to look at it - out of sight, out of mind.   
  
Unfortunately, that isn’t working.   
  
She misses Matt. She misses him more than anything - and though she’s spent the better part of the past few months missing him this is different. He isn’t coming home, he won’t be knocking on her hotel room door, won’t be falling asleep next to her at night. And then it hits her.  
  
Five days without Matt. That’s the most time they’ve spent apart since they got married - they always agreed that they wouldn’t be able to spend more than four days without seeing each other. Even four days - 96 hours - apart felt a little too much, too long without having the other near.   
  
And now, for the first time in three years, they’ve been apart for over a hundred hours. She doesn’t know whether she should feel proud of herself for getting through all that time without feeling the urge to call or message him, or whether she should kick herself for letting it go this far. Five days. Five days was hard enough - what happens when the days turn to weeks, months, _years_ even? Would she be able to survive that long without him?   
  
She hates that she questions her decisions to leave and her reasons for it. She hates that she can’t seem to unsee every single thing that’s made her leave, only ever remembering the bad times when she knows that the good should outweigh that.   
  
She settles down at the end of the day, her phone and a bottle of wine in her hand. She doesn’t bother with glasses anymore - it seems like a waste of water to wash the glasses when she knows that she’ll be drinking from the bottle. She plays the voicemails - today there are eighteen, the most that he’s sent at once, and she can’t help but feel that it’s because he’s feeling her five day absence as much as she’s feeling his.   
  
_“Please, Alex,”_ he sighs, and she can hear the tears in his voice. It makes her tear up too, but she knows that with time he’ll forget her. They always do. _“Please come home. I - it’s been so long - five days - and I - ”_ he breaks off, sniffling a little. _“We wrapped on set today. The movie’s finished. Remember what I said about taking a holiday? I want to - I still want to. With you. I know you’re working but just tell me, just call and tell me that you’ll come back after shooting, okay? Please. I want to - I need to see you.”_ _  
_  
 _“I miss you,”_ the tears in his voice are a little clearer now, his sniffling more uncontrolled, and she takes a swig of wine as tears roll down her face. _“I miss you so much, love, everything just - everything hurts now. I can’t do anything without you and I want to be near you. Every day I wake up and I hope that you - you called, or texted but - ”_ he sighs, _“There’s nothing. Alex, please. I’m not - I’m not ready. I - I just - I love you. And I miss you. So, so much, Alex. Please.”_ _  
_  
The voicemails continue in that vein, and though Alex is listening to his voice she’s given up on listening to his words. He keeps saying that - keeps saying that he loves and misses her, but he’s been saying that for the better part of five years. She’s tired of being told that she’s loved. She wants someone to show her. She wants _Matt_ to show her.  
  
But the tears in his voice are hard to ignore. With every voicemail she listens to it’s clear that it’s leading to a breakdown, and she has to take a little pause before she listens to the last one, already a little tipsy from polishing off one and a half bottles of wine in under an hour. When she clicks play on the last voicemail, she hears three seconds of sobbing before Matt finally speaks, his voice muffled, hoarse and full of tears, his throat clogged.  
  
 _“I don’t even know if you’re listening to these voicemails. But I’m leaving them regardless, because I need to talk to you, even if you won’t listen. I need to - to - to tell you that I love you. And I need you to know that no matter how long this takes I will not stop. I can’t - I just can’t. I will do everything I can to get you back, Alex, I swear. I’ll do anything. Just, please, please call back. I know you probably don’t want to see me, or talk to me right now but I can’t - I need to know. I need to know what I did wrong so I can fix it and - and we can be happy again. Together. We can be happy together. Please, please, love, please. I love you so much.”_ There’s a pause and a loud crash, and Alex sits up a little, reaching for her phone in alarm. _“Sorry about that. Probably shouldn’t try to climb the stairs.” Alex’s shoulders sag a little, letting a small, fond smile slip on her face. He hasn’t changed. “But Alex, I - I can’t, okay? This isn’t fair. You were prepared, you knew you were leaving and you knew that you wouldn’t see me - you knew all that. But I didn’t. I’m not - I’m not prepared to miss you, okay? I wasn’t warned - or - or anything, so please, just call me. Give me a few minutes of your time. Just a few minutes to convince you that I - that we can work again. Please.”_ _  
_  
His speech is riddled with sniffles, interrupted by sobs and she has a feeling that he’s been drinking a little because of how much his words are slurred. She wipes away her tears and finishes off the last bit of her wine, feeling the alcohol go to her head.  
  
 _This isn’t fair._ Does he hate her for leaving a letter? _This isn’t fair._ Does he hate her for not explaining herself, for not making him see exactly what was wrong with their marriage? _This isn’t fair._ Does he hate her for putting herself first? _This isn’t fair._ Does he hate her?  
  
It might be the alcohol. It might be because she hasn’t been away from him for this long in three years. It might be because she just can’t stand the thought of Matt hating her - he might not love her but she’s fine with that. So many people don’t. But _hate_ her? She could never live with herself if Matt does.   
  
So she reaches for her phone and dials his number by heart, pressing the phone to her ear. He doesn’t pick up, but that’s to be expected - it’s probably dinnertime there and he’s probably out with some friends. She gets directed to voicemail but once the tone beeps she finds that she has no idea what to say.  
  
“Hi,” she says lamely after a few seconds. “I - I’m not really sure why I called. Well - no, that’s a lie.” She admits. “I - I’m sorry, Matthew. I really am. But I can’t - I - it’s too hard for me to go back. I hope you don’t hate me for that, because I don’t know if I can - if I can handle the thought of you hating me. Please, I didn’t leave to be cruel or - or - or because I want you to be miserable. I left because I was miserable, have been for a while now. To be honest, nothing’s quite changed. I’m still miserable. Can’t tell if I’d rather be miserable with or without you.” She pauses, and places a hand on her forehead. What the hell is she saying? “Please disregard that last comment, I have no idea what I’m saying. I’ve been drinking and I think my tolerance has gone down since we did Who. Anyway, please just - don’t hate me. Uh - thank you.”  
  
She hangs up, throws her phone across the bedroom where it slams against the wooden closet, flops back down onto the bed and falls asleep immediately when her head touches the pillow.

*

The first thing that settles in his mind after he reads the letter is even more confusion - _what the hell is happening?_ He looks around for his phone, the bewilderment he feels increasing every second as he processes the words on the page - _I don’t blame you, you loved me for longer than I ever thought possible, I was incredibly happy and content_ \- was. _Was._ _  
_   
What?   
  
He finally manages enough sense to unplug his phone from the charger. He looks at the missed calls and realises with rising panic that he has over twenty missed calls from Nicola, the most recent coming in five minutes ago. He presses the call button on the number and waits - but he didn’t have to wait long, because she answered within half a ring.   
  
_“Matthew. Robert. Smith.”_ She growls into the phone, clearly angry and annoyed and - was that panic in her tone? “Where the _hell_ have you been?”   
  
“Work!” He answered, “I’m bloody knackered all the time, Nicola, I don’t _need_ a dozen missed calls from you when Alex is -”   
  
“Alex is leaving, Matt.” She snaps from the other end of the line. “She’s _leaving_ you, do you understand? She’s on a plane right now to London and she’ll be here in less than six hours and -”   
  
But everything else she says doesn’t register because just one phrase echoes like a haunting melody, over and over and over in his head and he finds that it’s difficult to breathe because - “Alex is leaving?”   
  
“ _Matt_ . Didn’t you get her bloody letter?” She sounds aggravated with him, as if it’s something he should’ve known because it happened a thousand times before.   
  
“But why?” He asks, and he can’t keep the note of desperation out of his voice - because he needs to _know_ , he needs to _understand_ \- and Alex’s letter hasn’t done a very good job of explaining anything to him. “Why is she - why did she leave?”   
  
She sighs, and he can tell she sounds weary and tired - like he should know this already.   
  
“Matt - she thinks you don’t love her anymore.”   
  
“ _What_ ?” He asks, almost laughing in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous - you can’t be serious, is this a joke because I swear -”   
  
“Does this sound like a fucking joke, Matt?” She snaps again, and he swallows because this can’t be real - this _can’t_ be happening, Alex would never leave like this, or ever - she _couldn’t_ .   
  
“But I -” he shakes his head. “I need to talk to her - Nicola, I have to go. I’ll call you back later - I’ve got to -”   
  
He’s so focused on calling Alex that he doesn’t realise he already hung up on Nicola, and when he hears the phone ringing and Alex’s voice on the phone he’s so relieved he forgets that it’s her voice mail message coming through. He lets out a shaky breath, steadying himself because there has to be an explanation for all of this.   
  
“Alex, love,” he whispers into the phone, his voice hoarse. “I read the letter and I - what’s happening? Nicola said that you’re leaving but that - it isn’t true, is it? I - when you get this, please call back, love. We’ll talk, and it’ll work out, I promise. I love you so so much, Alex. Always.”   
  
*   
  
“Alex, it’s been three hours since you landed, and I know you’re probably sleeping off the jet lag but I - I don’t know, I thought that maybe - just please, sweetheart. Please call back. I don’t know what’s wrong but I can fix it. Alex, I _swear_ I’ll fix it. Just please, please, _please_ give me a chance. I love you. Always.”   
  
*   
  
“Alex, sweetheart, please. Please, I just - I need to know what I did wrong. Please tell me, because I’m going crazy over here and I can’t - I need to hear your voice. Even just for a little while. Please pick up, love. _Please_. I love you, always.”   
  
*   
  
“I love you so much. I don’t know why you think I don’t, but I do - with everything. Always. Just - please know that. I miss you so much, love. Just please talk to me, I know we can work this all out. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I _promise_ , sweetheart, I promise that I’ll fix it.”   
  
*   
  
“Alex, it’s been a whole day without you and you still haven’t returned my calls. I, I, I - I don’t know what to do, sweetheart, please don’t ignore me. I love you - I know I keep saying that, but it’s _true_ , it’s never not been true, and I’m so sorry you don’t know that, that I haven’t been showing you or telling you or - I’m just, so, so sorry, love. Please pick up. I love you always.”   
  
*   
  
“I talked to Nicola - I’m so sorry, honey, I - I _do_ love you, so so so much. You _have_ to believe that. I’ve never - I can’t remember _not_ loving you. I wish I could explain everything over the phone but I need to see you - I can’t - I can’t lose you, Alex. I can’t. I - please call me back. Please, I need to speak to you, I need to hear your voice - it’s the next best thing if I can’t see you face to face. I love you, Alex. Always.”   
  
*   
  
“It feels wrong.” He whispers into the phone, tears clouding his eyes. It’s been three days since Alex left and he’s never felt more alone than this. “I can’t sleep in our bed because all I can smell is you and I - it hurts so much. Being without you hurts so much, love.” His voice breaks and tears fall but it doesn’t matter because all he can think about is Alex. “I need to see you - I need to - I need you. I’ll make it right again. I swear it - I swear to you, Alex, that I’ll - I’ll show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry I made you forget but I can fix this. I will. I - I _have_ to. Please, Alex.” His lips tremble with the effort of keeping it together, of not breaking down fully on the phone. “I love you. I _swear_ I do - so much. So, so, so much, Alex. Always.”   
  
He sleeps on the couch in their living room and spends his evenings staring at pictures of Alex from the Internet. She hasn’t answered any of his calls or voicemails, and he suspects that Nicola is up to something, but he can’t figure out what. He doesn’t know what else to do, and he’s becoming so desperate for the slightest bit of contact that he has to get news from how she’s doing out of Nicola’s reluctant mouth.   
  
He sighs, wiping the tears away from his cheeks and staring at the empty picture frame on the mantel. She took their wedding picture - that had to _mean_ something, right? It had to mean that she still loves him, right?   
  
But her wedding ring. He slips it from his pocket and holds it up to the light, staring at it. He’s been doing that a lot lately, looking at their wedding ring and remembering how happy he’d been to be the one to put it on her finger. She’d been so _beautiful_ , and they’d been so in _love_.   
  
His phone rings, the shrill tone cutting through the silence. He scrambles for it, thinking that maybe it’s Alex on the other line. When he sees his agent’s number on the caller ID he sighs and answers with a weary, “Hello?”   
  
“Matt! Have I got some good news for you, buddy.” His agent sounds chirpy and happy and Matt is just so tired and lonely that he can’t bear the sound of his voice. “There’re three major Hollywood productions that want you to be their leading man - I’ve taken a look at the scripts and I think you’ll really like the one with Emma -”   
  
“Dan I’m not - I can’t take on another project right now, I’m knackered and I -” he begins wearily, dragging a hand down his face.   
  
“But Matthew - this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Martin Scorsese will be directing and you _can’t_ miss this chance, it could lead you to a life on the big screen!” Dan interrupts, sounding both shocked and disappointed at Matt’s lack of enthusiasm. “Look - why don’t you give it a night’s rest, eh? I’ll send you the scripts tomorrow and you can look over it with Alex - I’m sure she’ll knock some sense into you -”   
  
“Alex isn’t here,” Matt snaps. He can’t help himself, he misses his wife and she isn’t here - and he’s not sure that she’ll ever come back to him. And though he knows that none of this is Dan’s fault, he can’t seem to stop the bite from his voice as he continues. “She _left_ because I’ve been working too much, I haven’t been here for her, and I need to - I -” he breaks off, swallowing a little as he lets his shoulders sag against the couch. Dan seems too stunned to reply, so he continues. “I can’t take another project now, Daniel. I need to - I need to go.”   
  
He hangs up on his agent and tosses his phone aside, laying back down on the couch and pressing her wedding ring close to his heart.   
  
*   
  
“Daniel, I told you I can’t take another project right now,” he says into the phone the morning after, a little agitated as he pours himself his third cup of coffee - he couldn’t sleep last night and had spent a good four hours checking several celebrity news sites based in London, hoping for some news on Alex - but so far there’d been nothing, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing now. Was the distance killing her as much?   
  
“Matt, I’m sorry about Alex, but if you really want her back then tell me what the hell you’re doing in LA? Isn’t she filming for her new TV series in London?” His agent asks, and Matt frowns.   
  
“No - her series doesn’t begin filming for another month -”   
  
“Rehearsals, Matt. Table reads, pre-production checks - have you forgotten all of this already?” Daniel sounds halfway between amused and exasperated.   
  
“Oh God,” says Matt, smacking a hand to his forehead. “I - I didn’t even _know_ that she was -” he sighs. “I’ve been a horrible husband.”   
  
“Well - I can’t say anything about that,” Daniel says, but Matt knows from his tone that given everything he’d wholeheartedly agree that Alex was right to leave. “But I’ve got good news for you, Matt - I’ve been in contact with the producers of Alex’s new show - and the actor they had cast to play one of the smaller roles had to drop out because he’s been in a car accident. Sad for him, but good for you - do you want it?”   
  
“Yes!” Matt says immediately, his eyes wide. An opportunity to see Alex again, to work with her - to _win her back._ “Yes, Dan - absolutely, no question -”   
  
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Dan laughs, but Matt is too eager and excited to hear anything beyond ‘alright’. “I’ll send the details to you over email - but Matt, I’ve got to warn you.” Daniel sighs into the phone, no longer sounding enthusiastic or bouncy. “If you take this part - they _will_ give it to you, no question - but if you take _this_ part, when there are clearly three Hollywood offers on the table for you - it’s not going to sound good to casting directors. It’s not going to be good for your career, and people are bound to talk.”   
  
“No offence, Daniel, but I really couldn’t care less about my goddamn career right now,” Matt says dryly. “And let them talk. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve talked about me and Alex.”   
  
“Matt, I know she’s your wife and everything, but -”   
  
“No buts,” Matt says firmly. “She should’ve come first, before anything else - and I should’ve known better but I was a horrible husband and partner for her, and she left - and now I have to get her back. I don’t care what the cost is, I just - I just want her back again, Daniel.”   
  
“I know,” Dan says, and the sympathy that lines his voice is almost too much to bear for Matt. “I understand, Matt - but I need you to know the risks. That romcom you’re doing - it’s _bound_ to be a huge success, you know? So many offers are gonna come raking in from that movie alone and I don’t want you to go making decisions rashly, without thinking about anything.”   
  
“There’s nothing to think about.” Matt says. He sighs tiredly and runs a hand down his face. “Alex is in London and I’m here. She’s gone and I have to do _something_ , I can’t just stay here and mope - that’ll only make her more sure that I don’t love her and I can’t have her believe that, Daniel, I - I worked so _hard_ to get her to take a chance on me and now she’s - she’s not here. I need her back. I need my wife back and I don’t - I don’t care what it takes.”   
  
“Alright.” Dan says, and Matt feels a huge weight lifted off his shoulders - honestly, if Dan refused to get in contact with the producers of Alex’s new show then Matt would’ve no doubt found a way himself, but it would be much easier with Dan’s help. “I’ll get in touch with the casting directors and make sure they know you’re available for the part.”   
  
“Thank you, Dan.” Matt says, as he takes a sip of coffee. “I owe you one.”   
  
“No you don’t,” Dan says. “Just get your wife back, Matt, and we’ll call it even.”   
  
*   
  
He throws himself into preparing for the audition - the casting director had insisted on an audition just to be sure that he was good enough for the part, but he knew it was more likely because they weren’t sure that he was even going to show up for it. No matter how many times they asked if he was sure he couldn’t help the distinct feeling that they thought he was lying about wanting the job. He _did_ want the job, just not for the reasons they were thinking of - but they didn’t need to know that. The script is quite good, anyway, and his character is a minor one, appearing in just eight episodes out of fifteen, so he’s sure that while they’re filming he’s able to have time to think about ways to get Alex back.   
  
When he isn’t doing that, he’s filming the final scenes of the romcom with Rosalyn. He can see that his friends are confused by the way that he’s acting, so dull and moody around them, but he can’t face them. Not when he knows that he’ll go back to a house each day without Alex in it.   
  
When they finally wrap the movie, he skips all the parties. He simply tells everyone that he has another project lined up and that he isn’t available for a long time, so he needs to be prepared. They don’t push, and he’s grateful for that.   
  
He has a small notebook that he carries around - the size of his hand, and it fits in his pocket quite snugly. It’s filled with notes and ideas on what to do for Alex once he finally sees her at the table read, two weeks from now. He’s taken to carrying pens around as well - for the purpose of jotting down certain ideas that pop up while he’s out and about. He has a list of florists and gift shops to visit that might hold something that interests Alex, but gifts and flowers have never been their way of showing love, and when he realises this he sighs and crosses the list out.   
  
At the very front page of the notebook, written in capitalised, bold writing, is ‘TELL ALEX YOU LOVE HER, IDIOT’. It was the very first thing he’d written when he got the notebook, and it seemed like a good reminder every day what his goal was. He needed to talk to her and figure out exactly what he’d done wrong - because for all his apologies and begging her to come home, he still has no clue what had driven her to leave in the first place.   
  
So when he arrives for his audition he feels his heart thumping quite hard in his chest - if he fails he’ll have to find some other way to woo Alex while she’s working full-time on a TV show, and if he succeeds (he crosses his fingers) he’ll be able to woo her while they’re _both_ working on the same TV show again. It’ll be just like old times on the Doctor Who set.   
  
He goes in for the audition, performs the scene they asked for with one of the cast members, and when the casting directors look at each other, frowning clearly he sighs, his hand slipping into his pocket to fiddle with the notebook there. If this doesn’t work he’s going to have to stay up all night to find something that does.   
  
“Forgive us, Mr Smith, but we’re a little - well, we were wondering why you were interested in this role. The real reason.” A tall man with furry eyebrows that reminds Matt very distinctly of an owl asks, still frowning. “We understand that your wife is playing the lead role, and we quite admire the enthusiasm but forgive us if we say that this doesn’t really seem like your cup of tea -”   
  
“Alex is a huge part of why I’m here.” He says honestly, and he knows instantly that he’s captured their attention by the way they immediately straighten up. “This script is good, I like the part, but you’re right, that isn’t the main reason why I want to work in this show. But before I say anything else, I’d like to know for certain if I have a place here.”   
  
“Well, you certainly have the part, Mr Smith, there’s no question there.” A tall, lean woman says, wearing the same expression as the man. “And your reason is?”   
  
“Alex and I are... going through some difficult times.” Matt starts. “And she isn’t - well, I need to speak to her. This is the only way she’ll ever be in the same room as me again.”   
  
“Mixing your personal with your professional?” The man asks, clearly disapproving of Matt’s motive for wanting to be in the show.   
  
“I wouldn’t be the first actor to do so, nor will I be the last.” Matt points out. “If you’d also do me the favour of keeping this casting from Alex, that would be great. If she hears that I’ve been cast she might want to drop out and I imagine that would not look good for your show.”   
  
“No, not at all.” The lady agrees. “Very well. We look forward to working with you, Mr Smith. We’ll have someone contact you with the details. We’ll also see about putting you up in the same hotel as Ms Kingston - would you like that?”   
  
“Yes, thank you very much.”   
  
The lady smiles for the first time since he entered the room. “Welcome to the show, Mr Smith.”   
  
*   
  
He gets home and packs for the trip. His flight leaves at six o’clock the following day and he doesn’t want to risk being unprepared. So he does everything. He makes sure everything is as proper as it can be, as proper as Alex left it, and he dumps everything he might need into a suitcase.   
  
When he feels the overwhelming urge to just talk to her and tell her how much he loves her, he leaves a voicemail. He texts sometimes, but she never replies. She doesn’t call back either, but he still tries. He doesn’t want her to think that he isn’t trying.   
  
When he gets home from the audition, he slumps back on the couch. Now, all he has to do is wait. Wait for his flight, wait to see Alex again. His heart aches every second he spends in their home without her. Every time he turns and expects to see her on the couch watching awful television, or in the kitchen humming as biscuits bake in the oven, or in their bedroom, wearing nothing but a coy little smile, but each time there’s nothing. No Alex. An empty couch, an empty bedroom, an empty kitchen.   
  
An empty picture frame.   
  
Every time he looks over the mantel and sees that empty photo frame it feels like a thousand knives sticking into his heart. And he knows - he knows this must’ve been how Alex felt when she was around. So every day, he looks at the photo. Just to remind himself that Alex felt like that every single day and he never noticed.   
  
He runs a tired hand down his face and heads for the kitchen, grabbing a random bottle of liquor without seeing what it is. He just wants to drink. This is how every day has ended since Alex left - crying, drinking, calling Alex and never getting a reply.   
  
Today, the pain is so much more unbearable. Because today is day five - five days without Alex, the longest they’ve ever been apart since they got married three years ago. They promised each other, during their honeymoon, that the long distances between them during their dating days was a thing of the past. They would never need to spend months without each other, or sleep alone for that long ever again.   
  
But now - now they’ve broken that promise. He feels an ache in his heart that hadn’t been there before, an ache that hurts so bad - he didn’t think anything could ever hurt more than losing Alex. He was wrong. Living without Alex, going day by day without her in his life, without touching her or listening to her voice - _that’s_ the worst part.   
  
He thinks about how he’d be spending this time with her if she hadn’t left. He’d have four months of free time, all the time in the world to spend with her. She’ll still be working, of course, but working on TV is a lot different compared to working on a movie - she’ll have weekends off, and they’ll get to spend some time together. They might’ve even been able to go on a short trip together.   
  
He lets himself imagine Alex under the hot sun, perhaps in Hawaii, or Italy, somewhere nice and hot. On a beach or in the privacy of their hotel room, making love every hour, unable to keep their hands off each other. It could’ve been like their second honeymoon, only a thousand times better.   
  
He promises himself, then. If he wins Alex back, he’ll take her to a second honeymoon to celebrate their third wedding anniversary, and nothing is going to stop them.   
  
He takes another swig of the bottle and reaches for his phone. It’s a habit now, calling her phone. He presses her number on speed dial and presses the phone to his ear.   
  
“Please, Alex. Please come home. I - it’s been so long - five days - and I - ” he breaks off. “We wrapped on set today. The movie’s finished. Remember what I said about taking a holiday? I want to - I still want to. With you. I know you’re working but just tell me, just call and tell me that you’ll come back after shooting, okay? Please. I want to - I need to see you.”   
  
*   
  
“I miss you. I miss you so much, love, everything just - everything hurts now. I can’t do anything without you and I want to be near you. Every day I wake up and I hope that you - you called, or texted but - there’s nothing. Alex, please. I’m not - I’m not ready. I - I just - I love you. And I miss you. So, so much, Alex. Please.”   
  
*   
  
“I don’t even know if you’re listening to these voicemails. But I’m leaving them regardless, because I need to talk to you, even if you won’t listen. I need to - to - to tell you that I love you. And I need you to know that no matter how long this takes I will not stop. I can’t - I just can’t. I will do everything I can to get you back, Alex, I swear. I’ll do anything. Just, please, please call back. I know you probably don’t want to see me, or talk to me right now but I can’t - I need to know. I need to know what I did wrong so I can fix it and - and we can be happy again. Together. We can be happy together. Please, please, love, please. I love you so much. Sorry about that. Probably shouldn’t try to climb the stairs. But Alex, I - I can’t, okay? This isn’t fair. You were prepared, you knew you were leaving and you knew that you wouldn’t see me - you knew all that. But I didn’t. I’m not - I’m not prepared to miss you, okay? I wasn’t warned - or - or anything, so please, just call me. Give me a few minutes of your time. Just a few minutes to convince you that I - that we can work again. Please.”   
  
He finally falls asleep at 7 in the morning, having spent the entire night drinking, watching football and checking his phone for any calls from Alex. He sleeps on the couch, beer bottles littered all over the floor and his phone in his hand, just in case.   
  
*   
  
He wakes up almost eight hours later with a pounding headache - something he’s been getting used to each morning. This time though, it’s late at night - and he realises with panic that he has to be in the airport in just three hours if he wants to catch his flight.   
  
He jumps in the shower and scrubs, brushing his teeth as quickly as he can. He makes quick work with his wardrobe, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, knowing that it would be pointless to put on a disguise when his face is plastered all over posters.   
  
He manages to get through airport security without being recognised. He waits a little impatiently for his flight to be called but an announcement tells the passengers that the flight will be delayed for a little late, and he huffs in annoyance as he settles on the lounge. Hopefully he won’t be late for the table read. Where he’ll see Alex again.   
  
He swallows a little nervously and pulls out his phone, debating whether he should leave another voicemail for her. Instead, he stares at the lockscreen on his phone - a picture taken by Salome, when they had a picnic by the beach. Neither of them are looking at the camera - he’s holding her from behind, their legs outstretched in front of them. She’s leaning back against his chest, her head tilted up, her smile wide and bright. He’s looking down at her, an identical smile plastered across his face.   
  
He remembers that day so clearly, their first real outing as a family after they got married. They were both still on a honeymoon high, unable to keep their hands off each other, and Salome had watched them with a sort of endearing smile. He knew that even though Salome might pretend to be disgusted by them showing public displays of affection she can’t help but feel happy for her mom, who’s been through so much heartache in her life.   
  
Before their wedding, before they even got engaged, when he had asked Salome for help in preparing to ask Alex for her hand, Salome had made him promise that he wouldn’t ever hurt Alex. Of course, she was a lot younger then, and she probably didn’t understand the implications of that. But he’d made a promise. To both Alex and Salome, and he’d broken both of them.   
  
He swallows roughly, a sad smile stretching across his face as he stares at the photo, remembering just how happy they made each other. They can still have that, if he tries hard enough. If both of them try hard enough.   
  
His flight is called then, interrupting his thoughts, and he starts to focus. He needs to prepare himself on the flight over since he spent almost the entire night drinking yesterday, and it wouldn’t do well for him to show up on his first day hungover and unprepared.   
  
He spends the entire flight going over his scripts, but since he’s playing a supporting character there aren't many lines for him to go over. He doesn’t let his mind stray even for a moment, afraid that if he does then he won’t be able to concentrate. He doesn’t want to ruin this, for Alex or him.   
  
When he touches down he goes through his phone, and he realises with a jolt that he has a missed call and a voicemail from Alex. His heart thumping, he presses his phone to his ear. There’s silence for a few moments, and he thinks that maybe she sent it by accident. His heart starts to sink again and he’s just about to pull the phone away when he hears her, for the first time in six days.   
  
_“Hi. I - I’m not really sure why I called. Well - no, that’s a lie. I - I’m sorry, Matthew. I really am. But I can’t - I - it’s too hard for me to go back. I hope you don’t hate me for that, because I don’t know if I can - if I can handle the thought of you hating me. Please, I didn’t leave to be cruel or - or - or because I want you to be miserable. I left because I was miserable, have been for a while now. To be honest, nothing’s quite changed. I’m still miserable. Can’t tell if I’d rather be miserable with or without you.”_ His heart leaps out of his chest as she takes a pause and returns a second later, _“Please disregard that last comment, I have no idea what I’m saying. I’ve been drinking and I think my tolerance has gone down since we did Who. Anyway, please just - don’t hate me. Uh - thank you.”_   
  
He swallows as he listens to her speak, her speech just slightly slurred from the alcohol - wine, probably. Alex always did like a good glass of wine. He looks down at his phone, his finger hovering over the call button. He hasn’t left a call or a voicemail since he left LA yesterday.   
  
He tries leaving a voicemail, but nothing sounds right. He doesn’t know what to say. How could he hate her when all he’s been trying to do is show her how much he loves her?   
  
In the end, he settles for a simple text. He hopes that she sees it, even if she doesn’t reply to it.   
  
_I could never hate you, Alex._


	7. if i could change the world overnight, there'd be no such thing as goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day she wakes up to a pounding headache. Her muscles ache and she feels a little nauseous, her mouth dry and the ray of sun through the blinds causing her to flinch uneasily. She sighs, burying her face in the pillow for a few more seconds before the memories of last night come rushing back to her - calling Matt, leaving a voicemail for him. She sits up quickly, ignoring how the sudden movement causes her head to spin, and crawls to the floor, searching for her phone. She finds it by the closet, the screen miraculously perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Almost Is Never Enough by Ariana Grande ft. Nathan Sykes

The next day she wakes up to a pounding headache. Her muscles ache and she feels a little nauseous, her mouth dry and the ray of sun through the blinds causing her to flinch uneasily. She sighs, burying her face in the pillow for a few more seconds before the memories of last night come rushing back to her - calling Matt, leaving a voicemail for him. She sits up quickly, ignoring how the sudden movement causes her head to spin, and crawls to the floor, searching for her phone. She finds it by the closet, the screen miraculously perfect.   
  
She can’t for the life of her remember what she said on the phone to Matt but she hopes she hadn’t embarrassed herself too much, and she prays even harder that her drunk, emotional self hadn’t done or said anything stupid, like admit how much she’s hurting, or beg him to come back, because she doesn’t think she can ever face Matt again if she did.   
  
When she turns her phone on, she’s a little surprised and - disappointed? - that there are only three voicemails, six missed calls, and one text. She frowns and scrolls through her call logs, unsure if maybe her phone is displaying an error. But she finds nothing, and she feels her heart sink a little. Maybe he’s moving on.   
  
She opens the one text: _I could never hate you, Alex._   
  
It’s the answer she wants to hear. He doesn’t hate her - he could never. But her eyes fill with tears and she feels her heart ache because that isn’t what she wants. She wants him to love her, to mean it when he says it and to show her. She doesn’t want him to simply not hate her.   
  
She sighs, wiping tears from her cheeks and pushing her curls away from her eyes, checking the time and realising with a horror that she only has 45 minutes to get ready before she needs to leave for the table read. Groaning quietly, she slips to the kitchen and prays she brought a pair of sunglasses large enough to cover her face before she gets to the studio.   
  
She gets there half an hour earlier, her hair up and a pair of sunglasses big enough to cover half her face sitting on top of her nose. She doesn’t know what to expect from this cast - she doesn’t recognise most of the names that the casting director sent her a few weeks ago, and it turns out that there’s a good reason for that. They wanted new, fresh faces for the show, a couple of up-and-coming actors that are as talented as they are beautiful. She, and another actor named Gary O’Malley are the only ones with notable acting history.   
  
She sits at her assigned seat at the table, shaking hands with a few of the cast and crew that are already at the table, but of the main cast she is the only one there. She remains seated and sneaks a peak at the cast names displayed on a plaque at the round table, nodding at the few that she recognises from the list that she was sent a few weeks ago and tilting her head at the new names that she sees, going through all of them to make sure she doesn’t forget any. She’s horrible with names - has been since the start of her career - and it usually takes her at least a week to remember who is who correctly.   
  
Her eyes drift around the table, reading some names - ‘Denise Johnson, Carla Chang, Foster Harrison’ - before she reads through the supporting actors’ cast. She tries her best to memorise both their actual names and their character names - she finds that it’s easier that way, to connect the actors to the characters. She drifts three seats down before her heart completely stops, because there, almost directly opposite her, sits someone named ‘Matt Smith’ playing ‘Detective Sergeant Jamie Anderson’.   
  
Matt Smith.   
  
Well, fuck.   
  
The worst part is that she can’t bloody tell if it’s the same Matt as hers. Matt Smith - what a bloody common name. She curses internally - why couldn’t Matt be named something a little less _normal_ ? Like Kael? Or Jabari? Or better yet - Jamiroquai?   
  
And _Smith_ ? The most common fucking surname in Britain. Millions of Smiths traipsing around everywhere, rich and poor, civilians and armed forces, _actors and non-actors._ She clenches her jaw and prays to God that this Matt Smith isn’t the one she married three years ago - the one she _left_ five days ago.   
  
“Um - Alex Kingston?” An unsure voice snaps her out of her reverie, and she whips around to see a woman in her late twenties, dressed casually and wearing the brightest, most eager smile on her face. “Hi. I’m Denise Johnson. I’m playing Fiona?”   
  
Alex sticks her hand out to shake the other woman’s and opens her mouth to reply but Denise cuts her off, chattering excitedly. “I’m so happy to be working with you! I’m a bit of a fan - well, I say a bit but - I started watching Doctor Who because of you and I own every season of ER that you were in on DVD.” She cringes a little when she admits this, and Alex can’t help but smile at her bubbly personality. “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous - and I had a ton of coffee to settle my nerves but I get really jittery when I drink caffeine and - am I coming on too strong?”   
  
“Not at all, Denise,” Alex assures her, bright smile in place. “It’s lovely to meet you. Is this your first show?”   
  
“Yeah,” she says nervously, tucking her brown hair nervously behind her ear as she settles down on the seat beside Alex. “I’m a bit of a late bloomer - only did modelling for a few years before I decided that wasn’t for me.” She laughs a little nervously, and Alex places a hand over hers to calm her down. “Took acting classes and showed up to a couple of auditions just to see if I could do it - and then I got cast! I couldn’t believe it.” She grins up at Alex and Alex smiles, eyes raking over Denise. She really is very beautiful, definitely the model type. Long, blonde hair, big hazel eyes, a petite body, an even smaller waist, a charming smile and a down-to-earth attitude. She’ll get along with Denise Johnson just fine. “I’m so excited to be working with you! Did I mention I was a fan?”   
  
She chats with Denise a couple of minutes more before Foster, Carla and Gary arrive together. There’s really only ten minutes left until the table read is due to start, and she can’t help but smile because they’re all getting along quite famously. Within the next ten minutes she learns that Foster and Carla used to go to the same acting school, where they dated for a while, Denise met Gary at a fan meet and asked for his autograph (‘I still have it on my wall! It’s framed!” She says proudly), and Gary has never seen an episode of Doctor Who or ER (“Though I _have_ seen Moll Flanders.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, making Alex laugh). She laughs harder than she has in months, and for a few minutes she forgets about the Matt Smith that is to be seated opposite her today. She can’t wait to get to know everyone better - can’t wait to call them family for the next few months.   
  
Alison Hayes, the director and writer of the show, turns up just on time, arm in arm with the showrunner, Kenny Hayes. The cast and crew fall silent as they give out instructions, Alex listening attentively as they read out the call times and filming schedules.   
  
When they’re done with the announcements, everybody settles down with their scripts. She lets her eyes fall to her own and shuts her eyes, trying to clear her head off everything - of how the Matt Smith that she is to work with still isn’t here yet - and she tries to get in character.   
  
“Alex, hey, where’s Matt?” Denise asks quietly, nudging her a little. “I thought you’d come in together.”   
  
“Matt?” Alex repeats. Denise looks at her strangely.   
  
“Yeah, he was - he was cast yesterday.” Denise frowns. “Didn’t you know? I thought that he - ”   
  
“He was cast yesterday?” Alex repeats again, wide eyed. Oh, no.   
  
“The original actor had to drop out because he got into a car accident and Matt took his place - I thought he got cast because he wanted to spend more time with you? And you didn’t - oh, no.” Denise gasps, placing a hand on her forehead. “It was a surprise, wasn’t it? And I ruined it! Oh, I’m sorry, Alex, I swear I had no idea.”   
  
“Don’t worry, dear, it’s alright.” She pastes a reassuring smile on her face though all she wants to do is disappear. Matt is coming to _London_ ? He’s going to be working on this show? Fuck. “We aren’t - ”   
  
“I’m so so sorry, Alison, Kenny - my flight got delayed for a bit and I couldn’t check into the hotel so I had to just drop by here and I - ”   
  
Alex freezes, her body tensing up completely when she hears the voice she’s been hearing on the phone in real life, not daring to look up in case she breaks down. She isn’t prepared. She doesn’t want to do this.   
  
“Mr Smith, welcome! It’s alright, we were all just settling down anyway. I’ll have someone brief you on the phone later.” Alison greets, before turning to the rest of the table. “Alright people, let’s get this started!”   
  
Alex keeps her head down, her eyes on the script as she reads. It’s the most excruciating one and a half hours she’s ever been through, her heart speeding up every time she realises that Detective Sergeant Jamie Anderson has a line on the page. She clenches her fists under the table when she has a scene with him, just one scene, and she knows her timing is off but she can’t help it, can’t concentrate. Once, she’s sure she bites out her lines with a kind of forceful intent that makes everyone else in the room awkward, but she can’t help it. Out of the corner of her eye she spies Alison and Kenny exchanging unsure looks at each other and she prays that her poor performance in this table read hasn’t cost her the first role she’s had in almost a year. She forces the words out, hates the way she’s playing it and hates how she’s letting her professional life mix with her personal - though she supposes that’s what she gets for marrying someone in the same profession as her. The first conversation she’s had with Matt in five days is in character and she can’t help the stinging pain that pokes at her heart every time she hears him speak.   
  
Thankfully, he’s a supporting character, which means he doesn’t have a whole lot of lines to begin with. She gets through the rest of the table read by focusing on getting into character and by the last fifteen minutes she’s finally at ease, getting her timing, pace and beats right. It’s a great improvement, and by the time everything is over she’s so relieved to finally be back on track again that she sighs and places her head in her hands. She can feel the curious glances that Gary, Carla, Denise and Foster are throwing in her direction but she determinedly avoids their gaze, busying herself with keeping her script in the overly large bag she brought along with her. She takes a sip from her water bottle just so she has something to do with her hands, and when Kenny finally announces that the next table read will take read in three days time, at the same time and place, and that they’re all dismissed, she forgoes goodbyes entirely and heads for the door, unable to stand being in the same room as Matt another second longer.   
  
*   
  
After the table read, Alex immediately stands and heads for the door. He swallows, knowing he’s the cause for her rushed exit - she’d normally hang around a bit and get to know the cast before filming starts, ensuring that they all get along well with one another so that spending a lot of time with each other wasn’t going to be a problem. He sighs and collects his scripts, hurrying out the door after her and into the hallway.   
  
“Alex, wait!” He calls, and the note of desperation doesn’t go amiss by anyone around. He sighs and ignores them, quickening his pace and following her into the parking lot, where there aren’t many people around. “Alex, please -”   
  
“What are you doing here, Matt?” She asks, finally turning around to face him. He sees the tears in her eyes and his first instinct is to walk over there and wrap his arms around her but he knows his touch isn’t welcome now, so he forces himself to stop and stay where he is. “Why are you here?”   
  
“I needed to see you and I -”   
  
“No one told me you were cast.” She says, an air of accusation in her voice and he hangs his head.   
  
“I told them not to tell,” he admits, and she makes a noise of disbelief. He rushes to defend himself. “I thought you’d pull out if you knew and I didn’t want you to! I just - I need to speak to you, alone, and you wouldn’t answer any of my calls -”   
  
“For a good reason!” She shouts. “I _knew_ that if I heard you again, if I _saw_ you again there wouldn’t be any chance of us going through this separation in peace -”   
  
“Then let’s not,” he takes a step towards her. His heart clenches at the way she flinches on instinct, taking a step back and maintaining the distance between them. He looks down at his shoes and shuts his eyes against the tears building in them, and whispers, “I don’t want you to leave, Alex.”   
  
“Don’t.” She sounds cold and hard and he whips his head up to see her shaking her head like she can shake off everything that’s ever happened between them. “Don’t tell me you care _now_ , when I’ve already left - it’s - it’s too late, Matt, I -”   
  
“Don’t say that,” his voice is a stark contrast to hers, desperate and pleading and he doesn’t care anymore as he stumbles over to her and takes her hands, cradling them tightly and pressing them against his chest. “Please. I love -”   
  
“Do you?” She asks seriously, and though her face is hard her eyes shine brightly with unshed tears.   
  
“So much.” He breathes, his head dropping as his hold on her hands tighten even further, unwilling to let her go. “So, _so_ much. Please come home.”   
  
“But I can’t,” she whispers, and for the first time when she looks at him there isn’t any anger or frustration - just sadness and heartache. “I can’t go back and go through all that again, Matt - I - I’m not strong enough for that.”   
  
“You won’t have to,” he promises fiercely, leaning his forehead onto hers and sighing slightly because this is the first time in _weeks_ that she’s so close to him and her lips are _right there_ and he - “I won’t ever let you forget how much I love you. Ever again. I swear, Alex, I -”   
  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says brokenly, shaking her head. “Don’t tell me you love me and then continue to ignore me and -”   
  
“I won’t. Alex, please,” his hands let go of hers to cradle her cheeks as he stares into her eyes. “Just - give me one more chance - once. That’s all.”   
  
“I already gave you one chance.” She swallows, licking her dry lips. “We didn’t work out - that’s fine, Matt, I told you - we were never meant to last this long -”   
  
“That’s rubbish and you know it.” He shakes his head adamantly, his voice no longer cracking with desperation - now he just wants to prove himself, because they’re _right_ , because they’re exactly where they need to be - together. And she needs to see that. “Tell me then,” he says, with a lot more confidence than he feels but then again, Alex has never been a particularly good liar. She’s an amazing actress, but a terrible liar - it’s one of the things Matt initially found so amusing about her. Now though, he’s just grateful for that particular fact. “Look at me, and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”   
  
She looks at him in disbelief, like she can’t quite wrap her head around what he’s asking her to do. Her eyes are wide, her tears finally falling as she shakes her head frantically. “You know I can’t do that, Matthew.”   
  
“Then let me fix this.” he says, going back to pleading. “Let me - let me make you happy again.”   
  
“It was never about you not making me happy, Matthew.” she says, her voice trembling as she stares past his shoulder, letting out a shaky breath as she continues, “it was about _me_ not making _you_ happy.”   
  
“What?” he asks. “Alex - you always made me happy, you never really needed to try - you just had to be _there_ , and I -”   
  
“Don’t lie to me.” she says, and though she’d meant it to come out cold and harsh all she can hear in her voice is weariness and heartache. “Don’t tell me that was all I needed to do when I could _feel_ you slowly pulling away -”   
  
“And so you decided to leave?” he asks incredulously. “You couldn’t just - just _talk_ to me about this, because I would’ve told you straight, Alex, that you were thinking too much and worrying too much because I’m _not_ pulling away on purpose -”   
  
“Aren’t you? Because you’re not acting like it,” she snaps, pushing away from him. “Ignoring me in front of your friends, _flirting_ with other people - those aren’t things you do to your wife. And I don’t blame you, Matthew, I really don’t - I’ve known for a while now, that you’d realise that we’re way too mismatched and I -”   
  
“Stop. Don’t - don’t act like you know what I’m feeling.” He runs a hand through his hair, wiping tears away from the corner of his eyes as she watches him carefully.   
  
“Don’t I?”   
  
“No, you don’t,” he says harshly. She freezes at his tone and he stares with satisfaction as her eyes widen in disbelief. “Because if you did you wouldn’t even _think_ about leaving me with a goddamn letter.”   
  
“Matt,” she sighs and shakes her head. “You’re not - you’re not _listening_ to me -”   
  
“No.” he says. “ _You’re_ the one not listening to me.” He licks his lips and places a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes meet again. He swallows and pulls her closer, placing a light kiss to the corner of her mouth before he places both his hands delicately on her jaw, cupping her face. “I love you. I will make this right again - no matter how long it takes. I’m not giving up on you.”   
  
She sighs in defeat, a tear finally escaping her eye as she looks at him, her heart tightening in her chest as she stares up at her husband. “Why are you doing this?” she asks tearfully, her voice cracking. “Why are you making this so hard for me?”   
  
He manages a small smile, his thumb stroking over her left cheek, wiping her tear away as he presses a kiss to her nose, the small contact with her skin sending a wave of longing over him.   
  
“Because you’re worth it. Always.”

*

She manages to avoid Matt for the next three days by staying inside her hotel room. She hates that the producers somehow managed to get him a room on the same damn floor as her, because now she has to begin her life as a shut-in.   
  
It hurts to see him. As much as she loves him she can’t look at him without remembering her heartache and it’s hard to be professional about it when the pain is still so fresh and all she wants to do is escape. She knows he’s waiting for her, he said as much, but she isn’t ready for this confrontation. Maybe she never will be.   
  
So she locks herself in her room, learns her lines and looks longingly at the sun for three days straight, leaving early for the second table read so she’ll be able to avoid Matt again. Thankfully, Denise and Foster are already there, and she chats with them for a little while.   
  
“Oh my God, Alex! It’s so good to see you again!” A familiar voice calls out.   
  
Alex turns and sees Rosalyn waving excitedly at them. She pastes a smile on her face as she greets the girl.   
  
“Rosalyn! What are you doing here?” She asks, quite sincerely.   
  
“Didn’t you hear? I’m a part of your new TV show!” She grins happily, clapping her hands together. “Isn’t that exciting?” She turns to the rest. “I’m so happy to meet you both!”   
  
Alex doesn’t really know how to respond to that without offending Rosalyn, so she wisely just puts on a smile and nods slowly. Why is Rosalyn really here? It can’t be because she’s interested in a British crime drama that will likely only be aired in the UK. She’s stated many times that she has no interest in doing television, which means that -   
  
“Oh, Matty picked me up from my hotel,” Rosalyn says, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I was worried I’d get lost since I’m very new here and Matty practically jumped to offer me a ride. He’s _such_ a good friend to me.”   
  
Rosalyn turns to Alex, a frown on her face. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. Didn’t Matty tell you?”   
  
Alex smiles and tilts her head. “I must’ve forgotten that bit. Welcome to the team, Rosalyn. We’re glad to have you here.”   
  
“And I am so glad to be here, Alex. Truly.” She says, a bright smile on her face.   
  
Alex turns away and sits back in her chair, ignoring Rosalyn when she waves Matt over. She pretends to be busy with her script even though she already knows her lines by heart and tries to tune out the conversation happening between the others.   
  
Carla arrives ten minutes later and Gary is right on time, and as the table read starts and Alex sees Rosalyn sitting next to Matt she can’t help but purse her lips tightly.   
  
She keeps it together this time. She can’t give Rosalyn the satisfaction of knowing how much her presence bothers her. She reads flawlessly, gesturing like she always does and it feels so great to be in her element again, despite everything else that’s going on.   
  
She ignores Rosalyn since she doesn’t have scenes with her character. She ignores how Rosalyn’s eyes fixate on Matt’s lips when he speaks. She ignores the way Rosalyn leans into him just a little too close for comfort and she ignores that Matt doesn’t say or do anything about it - he doesn’t even seem to notice.   
  
In the end, the pack up after mounds of praise from the writers and showrunners. Alex deliberately takes her time, though she declines Carla’s offer to grab drinks with the rest of the cast. Though she’d kept her cool throughout the table read, she really would like to go back to her hotel room with several bottles of gin and no interruptions.   
  
Through the haze of people leaving, she hears Matt decline Rosalyn’s offer to go for lunch and she can’t help but smile a little at the whine in Rosalyn’s voice as she asks him to reconsider. But he remains firm, bids Rosalyn goodbye, and all too quickly he and Alex are the only two people left in the room together.   
  
Their eyes lock across the room and she wonders briefly if he’d spend last night with Rosalyn, too. She hates that it’s the first thought to enter her mind when she sees him but she can’t help it - after all those furtive glances the girl shot him at the table read he’d be blind not to notice what she was up to - heck, _everyone_ noticed what she was up to. And though most of the cast and crew knew that they were separated they also knew that Matt had come all the way here just to get Alex back - and she doesn’t want to be made a fool. If Matt came all the way here for Alex but ended up leaving with Rosalyn - well, she’s had enough of that for a few lifetimes, thank you very much.   
  
“Hello,” he says when he sees her. She summons up a tired smile but it’s been a dreadful morning and all she can think about doing is curling up in her bed in the hotel room and catching up on some much needed sleep.   
  
“Hello, Matt.” she says.   
  
“I was hoping that you’d be hungry enough to have lunch with me?” he asks, his eyes wide and hopeful as she stares at him, and she knows this is him trying to reach out and be a better husband, but she’s just so _tired_ that the thought of having a lunch with Matt that will undoubtedly be awkward, at least at first, seems like such an unpleasant thought that she doesn’t want to put in her limited energy into it.   
  
“Matt, I’m really tired.” she says honestly, and she watches as his face falls a little.   
  
“Oh,” he says, very clearly disappointed. “I was just hoping to - but nevermind, if you’re really tired I can - it can wait.”   
  
He flashes her a smile that doesn’t really hide how crestfallen he feels at her rejection and she sighs, because she’s never been able to say no to him, especially not when he looks so eager.   
  
“If we can be back in an hour that’d be really great,” she says, and his face lights up so fast that she finds herself mirroring his ridiculous grin.   
  
“Okay then,” He offers her his hand, bowing slightly as he says in a deep voice, “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”   
  
She lets out a bubble of laughter and takes his hand.   
  
*   
  
He walks with her to the end of the street, where a little cosy diner sits. It’s near enough so that he’ll be able to spend as much time with her as possible and still get back to the hotel in under an hour. They walk in comfortable silence, the soothing wind and their shoes scraping gently across the pavement as they walk are the only sounds to fill their ears. He thinks about what to say to her when they finally get to the diner - ever since that day at the parking lot they haven’t had a single moment alone together. All he wants is to ask her for another chance to try again, because he doesn’t want to give up on her.   
  
But more than that, he wants to know what he did wrong. He wants to know what he did that made her feel like leaving was the only option she had left - what he’d done that made her feel she couldn’t talk to him about anything.   
  
So as they sit in a quiet corner, away from the small crowd starting to gather for lunch, he fidgets nervously. He doesn’t want to make her feel like it’s her fault they’re separated when he knows most of the blame lies on him - but he _needs_ to know what to fix before he can start anything.   
  
“You’re staring a hole into the menu, Matt.” She says, and as he looks up at her and sees that her eyes are still focused on the menu in front of her he feels a little of the tension subside, and he gives her a small grin.   
  
“I’m just - thinking.” He says, and she raises her eyebrows before she sighs and puts the menu away, looking at him seriously.   
  
“Right, spill it then.” She rolls her eyes at the look she receives from him and continues, “You obviously want to talk, Matthew, so let’s just get right to it.”   
  
The tone she uses does nothing to calm his nerves and as he stares at his wife the only thing he can do is sigh and say, “I just want to know what I did that - that made you think that I don’t love you anymore. I mean, I know it’s because I’ve been working a lot, and I probably haven’t been the most attentive husband but I - that can’t be the only reason. That can’t be why you thought the only option you had was to leave.”   
  
She looks at him and sees only sincerity in his eyes. He genuinely wants to know what he did wrong - but how is she supposed to tell him that the last straw was seeing Rosalyn on his lap? She doesn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it with him.   
  
“Matthew,” she sighs, staring down at the table. “When you got cast in that movie - even before you got cast in that movie, in fact - it already felt like you never had enough time for me. You found time to go to work, socialise with your friends and go to parties - which is fine, I’ll never stop you from doing that - but it made me feel like I was less important than all of those things.”   
  
He swallows and looks down as well - it’s hard to hear, even harder to realise that she was right - he hadn’t paid enough attention to her these past few months, even though he knew that Alex was insecure at the best of times. She probably felt like he was getting bored of her already.   
  
“I just - I didn’t want to feel like I was at the bottom of your list of priorities anymore,” she says, looking up at him with wide eyes. She’s surprised that for once, she doesn’t feel tears burning her eyelids.   
  
“Alex, you’re my _wife_ . I married you and I made a promise -” He tries to defend himself, tries to explain but her eyes flashes with something akin to anger and he knows instantly that he’s taken the wrong route.   
  
“Oh really? Could’ve fooled me, Matthew. Do all husbands ignore their wives or is that just a _thing_ with you?” Her tone is scathing and he bows his head.   
  
“I didn’t mean to,” he says quietly. She turns away from him, her eyes sad.   
  
“No one ever means to hurt me,” she says, and the sad smile that she gives him is enough to make his heart break a thousand times over. “They just do.”   
  
“You could’ve said something to me,” he says, “You didn’t _have_ to leave - I thought that you - that you didn’t -” he looks straight at her and continues, his voice soft, “I wondered why it was so easy for you to just write a letter and leave.”   
  
“Matt,” her voice is hard and cold and he knows instantly that he’s hit a nerve, and he can sense that she’s trying to rein in her temper as she continues, “you have no _idea_ how hard it was to leave that letter and pack a bag - you have no idea how much I’ve been hurting for _months_ , while you were off always working or with something else to do -”   
  
“Alex, you could’ve just - just talked to me, you know I would’ve dropped everything for you in a _heartbeat_ , love -” but it doesn’t work, because he sees her nostrils flare as she inhales sharply, and she turns her frustrated eyes on him.   
  
“Matthew, you missed our anniversary!” She almost shouts, but before she continues she shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, aware of the fact that they’re in public and their little spat could end up trending on the Internet in less than a day. She swallows roughly and shakes her head, continuing in a softer, calmer voice that does nothing to hide the anger and exasperation she feels, “You missed it, and you never even _realised_ you missed it until I bloody well had to scream it in your face - and even before that, you were missing date nights and lunches with friends, missing out on calls and ignoring texts from me. And then you got cast in that _stupid_ movie and it took up your time 24/7 - and then you were working with fucking _Rosalyn_ and -”   
  
“What does Rosalyn have to do with this?” He asks, bewildered.   
  
“Nothing! Bloody fucking nothing, Matthew.” She sighs, shaking her head and gathering her purse. “This was a bad idea - I need to - I need to go.”   
  
“No Alex, please just -” he takes one of her hands but she wrenches it out of his grip, and before he can do anything else she’s standing up. The other patrons in the diner aren’t paying them much attention but he can tell that they’re getting several concerned stares from the staff, so he stays put where he is.   
  
“Don’t you dare come after me now, Matthew.” She sounds serious, the tone she uses when she’s genuinely angry and upset and he knows he can’t do anything but respect her wishes or she won’t hesitate to make a scene. So he stays put in the diner, watching helplessly as she leaves even if every inch of his body is telling him to follow her out into the street.


	8. we can deny it as much as we want, but in time our feelings will show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tries to catch her for the rest of the day, but she’s avoiding him. She doesn’t go back to her hotel room, she hangs around other cast members, ensures that she’s always somewhere filled with people so he won’t be able to make a scene without embarrassing either of them. By the end of the day, he’s frustrated and desperate, wanting to explain to Alex as much as he wants an explanation from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Almost Is Never Enough by Ariana Grande ft. Nathan Sykes

He tries to catch her for the rest of the day, but she’s avoiding him. She doesn’t go back to her hotel room, she hangs around other cast members, ensures that she’s always somewhere filled with people so he won’t be able to make a scene without embarrassing either of them. By the end of the day, he’s frustrated and desperate, wanting to explain to Alex as much as he wants an explanation from her.  
  
He waits outside Alex’s hotel room, staring at the number on the door and wondering whether it was fate’s cruel way of reminding him of when they were at the beginning of their relationship - because there’s no way the fact that his hotel room is exactly twenty-seven steps away from hers is a coincidence. He raises his hand and knocks three times, hoping that Alex has cooled down enough to answer him. The door opens just a crack and Alex stops in her tracks, her mouth hung open - it’s clear she hadn’t thought to check who was on the other side of the door before she opened it.   
  
“Alex?”   
  
She sighs wearily, swallowing and opening the door wider so that she can lean comfortably against the door frame. “Matt, I told you that I didn’t want to be disturbed and I -”   
  
“I’m sorry. I just -” he shuts his eyes and leans his head against the door frame. “I want to make it right again. I want so badly to make us right again, sweetheart, but that can’t happen if we don’t _talk_ to each other.”   
  
“I’ve already said everything I wanted to say.”   
  
“In this?” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a faded piece of paper, worn and folded and dog-eared and she knows immediately what it is. “In your letter? Because I’ve memorised every word, Alex. I’ve read and read and read this a million times over the last three weeks and I still can’t understand why you would choose to just - just _leave_ when you know -” he breaks off, clutching at the piece of paper like it’s the only thing keeping him sane while they’re having this conversation. “When you _know_ that I would never, ever intentionally hurt you like that.”   
  
“You want to know why I left? Because I thought you didn’t love me anymore. And then you came after me - and then she - and then something else came up and it’s _just_ like what happened before, Matthew.” she sighs, weak and tired even as she feels a fresh onslaught of tears build up in her eyes again - she’s just so _tired_ of feeling this way, of feeling so sad and hopelessly in love with someone who just doesn’t want her anymore. 

“It’s like a vicious cycle, repeating over and over and over again and the only one that’s getting hurt by this wheel of terror is _me_ . Because you’re still my husband and -” she pauses and closes her eyes, shaking her head and she wishes what she’s about to say isn’t true at all but it is, and lying to herself has never boded well for her in all her years so she says it anyway. “and I still _love_ you,” she whispers, and swallows roughly. Being in love with Matt was the best thing that had ever happened to her until this. 

“But I’m not - I’m not _strong_ enough, do you understand? I’m not strong enough to listen to you say it, in that - voice of yours that I - I’ve heard too often whispering words of love into my ear - I can’t hear that voice telling me that you don’t love me anymore.”   
  
“But I _do_.” he whispers back. 

His heart lifts when she admits that she still loves him but he feels it shatter again when she says that she can’t hear him say that he’s fallen out of love with her and he’s so afraid that she _still_ believes it, even though he’s here with her and not a thousand miles away like she’d expected him to be. The fact that she still believes he doesn’t really love her despite everything he’s been trying to do to convince her otherwise makes his heart ache and throb in a way he’s never known before. 

“I still do. So much, love. Why else would I do all of this? I’d never - you’re my _wife,_ Alex, you’re the person I married and I love you so, so, _so_ much that I couldn’t -” He raises his hand, the one that’s holding the letter, the one that’s faded and worn and stained with both their tears, and he clutches it so tightly in his hand that it crumples. “I read this letter a thousand times, over and over again even though it hurt so _bloody_ much because it was the last thing I had of you, one of the two things you left behind and I couldn’t - I couldn’t let it go.” 

He raises his head and meets her eyes, his hand catches her chin and tilts her head up, dropping his forehead down to hers as he whispers, “I can’t let _you_ go. I don’t want to lose you, Alex, _please_ , just - just come home, love.”   
  
“I can’t.” She shakes her head, her voice breaking and he bows his head down, hiding the tears that built up at her broken whisper. “I can’t go back, Matt - not yet. I need to - I need to be sure and I -”   
  
“I’ll do whatever it takes.” He promises, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “Whatever it takes to convince you that I love you so, so much, I’ll do it. I won’t - I can’t lose my wife. Nothing else matters as much as you.”   
  
“Matthew,” she shakes her head. “Don’t - just, _please_ \- don’t.”   
  
“Why?” he asks desperately. “Why won’t you let me try again?”   
  
“Because the first time was hard enough.” her lips tremble and she feels the tears escaping her eyes as memories of sleepless nights and loveless days haunt her mind and grip her tightly, and she isn’t ready to let go of the hurt yet. 

She remembers the doubts and her insecurities and feeling so loved when even the slightest bit of affection was shown to her. She remembers falling asleep while missing him, waking up missing him, and going about her day missing him dearly while all he ever does is work, not bothering to even check back home with her once in a while. She remembers the dull ache that settled in her heart ever since he was cast in that movie, how that ache never really left - how it became a part of her, a part of being married to Matt Smith - a part of their marriage. 

“And if we fail the second time I don’t know if I can -” she cuts herself off, sobs escaping her throat as she shakes her head and disappears behind the door of her hotel room.  
  
He hesitates for a moment, not knowing if she’s giving him permission to follow her, but then he hears a violent sob rip from her throat and he doesn’t care anymore - he enters her hotel room to find her on the sofa, her hands buried in her face as she cries harder than he’s ever seen her. Every heart wrenching sob that escapes her feels like a stab in his chest, a knife twisting deeper and deeper and all he wants to do is wrench it out and let himself bleed because _surely_ that would be less painful than this.   
  
She’s shaking violently and he doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around her small frame and burying his head in her hair, whispering soft words to her. He feels hot tears burning his own eyelids as he presses his face into her curls, rocking them slightly, hoping to God that this is enough to soothe her.   
  
“I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his voice cracking. 

The knowledge that he’d been the one to cause her this much pain makes him hate himself, makes him want to go back in time and knock some sense into his past self because _clearly_ he hadn’t been thinking straight; how had he never noticed that Alex was hurting so much? 

“Sweetheart, I’m so so sorry, I - I never realised how much I hurt you.” 

He presses his wet cheek to her hair and tugs her closer, feeling her twist and turn in his arms so that her face is buried in his neck. He feels the tears on her cheek touch his skin and it’s worse somehow - to feel the evidence of her pain pressed into him, taunting him as a voice rings out in his head, loud and clear: _you could’ve saved her all this pain._ _  
_   
She tries to get a hold of herself, tries to regain her bearings and calm her breathing but everytime she does she hears Matt, whispering words of love and apologies, tender and sweet and everything she wanted in the last few months of their marriage but never got. She sobs harder, feeling herself lose control as she fists her hands in his shirt and cries into his shoulder - no matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop crying. Tears fall from her eyes in an endless stream of all the heartache she’s felt in the last few months and she realises that even though all she’s been doing is shedding tears over her marriage she can’t ever stop them from flowing. She doesn’t know how, not when she’s so confused and conflicted because everything Matt is doing now is the exact opposite of what he’s done - the exact opposite of what led her to leave in the first place, and she doesn’t know what to _believe_ .   
  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers again, and it seems like that’s the only thing he can say to her now. “I - I swear Alex, I love you so much. More than anyone, more than anything, and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove it to you a million times over if you’ll let me.” 

His hands hold her close because that’s the only thing they’re capable of doing now - and as his fingers stroke her back lightly he hopes and prays this won’t be the last time that he holds her in his arms. 

“Please, love, I can’t - I don’t _want_ to be apart from you. I’ll make it up to you - just, just give me a month honey, one month to convince you and I - I swear you won’t ever have to hurt like this again, I _swear_ , sweetheart.”   
  
But she starts shaking even more as her sobs increase and he wraps his arms tighter around her, pressing her frame closer to his as she cries.   
  
“I don’t -” her voice is thick with tears and muffled against his shoulder and he has to strain to hear her as she tries to get the words out, because she’s still sobbing as she forces herself to speak. “I don’t know if I can try again,” she whispers, and he feels like his heart has broken into a million pieces, feels like he’s just lost her for _good_ this time, and that he’s grasping at straws trying to hold on to her. “I’m just so - so _tired_ , Matthew, of feeling so unloved and I can’t - I don’t want to go through that again.”   
  
“But you’re not unloved.” He whispers into her hair, his voice broken and cracking as he tries so _hard_ not to break down just like she did. “I love you, and even if you don’t believe that now - I’ll prove it to you, in any way I can - in every way I can. Please, _please_ , just let me prove it to you, Alex.” 

His lips drop to her hair again as he begs, “One month. That’s all I ask for, just - just one month for me to convince you, sweetheart. And after that, if you’re still - if you think that you can’t do this again -” he shuts his eyes tight as his throat clogs, and when he opens his mouth to speak softly she can hear the tears in his voice as he says, “Then I’ll let it go. I won’t - I won’t bother you again, and you can live your life exactly the way you wanted to when you left.”  
  
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t say anything for a while, the only sounds in the air are her soft hiccups and quiet sobs and sniffles as she contemplates his offer.   
  
“I don’t want to be without you,” he whispers, and even as he speaks of a future without her, he doesn’t know how he’s ever going to get through every day of his life without her by his side. He doesn’t want to live a life where he doesn’t come home to Alex, but if it comes to that - he’ll have no choice. And it’ll be his own fault, anyway. “But if you - if you honestly think that it’s what will make you happy then I won’t stop you. I won’t - I’ll leave you be, and I won’t bother you again.”   
  
“But if you give me a chance,” he shuts his eyes and prays to God that she does, “I’ll do everything I can to earn you back - to deserve you again. I promise you, Alex, I’ll - I won’t let you forget how much I love you.”   
  
The silence stretches between them until her sobs stop completely, and she pulls away, wiping at her eyes and pinching her nose. She looks so incredibly worn and tired, but still so goddamn beautiful and he thinks there’s literally nothing this woman could do that could ever make him think she’s unattractive - and yet somehow she doesn’t believe him.   
  
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, unable to help himself - because if there’s one thing he’s learnt from all of this is to never keep any compliments he has for her to himself. “So beautiful.”   
  
She shakes her head disbelievingly but he just smiles, as sincerely and as honestly as he can as he looks at her with so much awe in his eyes. She ducks her head because it reminds her of their wedding day, of their honeymoon and their first anniversary, when they’d been so happy and it felt like no force in the world could’ve ever torn them apart.   
  
She thinks about what he’s asking from her - another chance for them, another chance for him to prove himself worthy. She knows that if she gives him one more chance, she’ll be putting her heart on the line - again. And she doesn’t know if she’s ready for that.   
  
What she does know is that she loves him. Even after everything that’s happened, even after the pain and ache, she still loves her husband. Having him near her, having him come after her like this and tell her that she’s still loved as much as he is - it’s mending her heart and breaking it in equal measure, and she has no idea what to make of the feeling.   
  
Of all her marriages, all the relationships she’s had in the past, none of them had ever tried to get her back. None of them had thought she was worth all the trouble, worth dropping everything for or worth making promises to - worth keeping those promises to - and now here Matt is, crying and begging and promising, telling her she’s worth it, telling her that nothing else matters as much as she does, swearing that he still loves her more than anything - and the very knowledge that he’s even trying, making the effort of chasing after her instead of just letting her go fills her with a feeling she’s never felt before. She feels like maybe she can give them another shot, simply because Matt hasn’t given up on them yet. Maybe she shouldn’t either.   
  
She holds on to that feeling because God knows she needs it - and she swallows, her eyes red and puffy and her voice still a little hoarse from all the sobbing as she concedes, “One month.”   
  
“Thank you,” he breathes softly, relief sweeping through his frame as he cups her cheek and rubs over her skin with the pad of his thumb. Her cheeks are still damp with tears and he moves closer to kiss them away but remembers that he’s supposed to be taking it slow so he asks, a little tentatively, “Can I - Am I allowed to kiss you?”   
  
“Matt, my nose is red and my eyes are puffy and there’s snot all over my face.” She says, sniffling slightly and looking at him as if he can’t possibly know what he’s asking for. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want your lips anywhere near mine right now.”   
  
He tilts his head at her. “I always want my lips near yours,” he says softly, and she can’t help the small smile that appears on her cheeks. “But if you’re uncomfortable then I won’t push or -”   
  
She takes his chin in her hands and pulls his head down gently for a tender kiss, their lips brushing gently over one another. It’s been so long since they’ve had any kind of intimate contact with each other that he feels his heart skip as her lips touch his, and he longs to pull her down to kiss her more thoroughly but he needs to follow her terms now.   
  
“I love you,” he whispers, when they pull apart.   
  
“I know.” She whispers back, before she takes a deep breath and he knows that he won’t get the answer he’s been hoping for. If anything, he’ll have to earn back those three words from her and he’s never been so eager to start working on something as he is on this - as he is on earning his wife’s heart back. “But Matt - I’m a little drained today, can we -”   
  
“Right. Early day tomorrow, time to sleep.” He nods, standing up from the couch. She stands up too, still rubbing at her puffy eyes as she looks at him. He gives her a small smile and leans in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”   
  
“Goodnight, darling.”   
  
When he falls asleep that night, all he hears is his wife’s voice calling him ‘darling’ over and over again.

*

“Ah shit, Alex, I forgot my wallet upstairs, could you - I’ll pay you back later - ” Matt asks a little sheepishly, his cheeks coloured red.   
  
“No need, darling,” she says, smiling a little reassuringly. After the talk they had over a week ago she seems a little less angry and tense around him, and he’s so grateful for that. She hands him her wallet as she takes the drinks from the bartender. “I’ll wait for you over at our table.”   
  
She carries the drinks carefully, balancing the tray as she walks over and sets it down on the table, where the rest of the cast waits for them.   
  
“Here we go,” she says, setting the tray down carefully. “Drinks!”   
  
“Finally, Kingston!” Gary roars, lifting his beer from the tray and taking a sip. “Going grey just waiting for you here.”   
  
“Mmm,” she says, taking a sip of her gin and tonic. “I don’t see you offering to help out, O’Malley.”   
  
Gary shrugs nonchalantly, though she can see that he’s delighted that she’s engaging him in a little friendly banter. She must admit that this is part of what she’s missed so much about work - making friends, lighthearted banter, all the works. It isn’t as fun bantering alone at home.   
  
“If I’d known that you were a clumsy one, Kingston, I would’ve offered you to help you with more than just your drinks.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Alex laughs, shaking her head.   
  
“Naughty, naughty. You might want to watch it, Gary.” she says warningly, though the little smile on her face lets him know that she’s just playing with him. “I might decide to punish you.”   
  
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” Gary says, raising his glass in her direction a little before taking a sip, a charming little smirk playing on her face.   
  
“Her punishments are _very_ enjoyable,” Matt appears at her shoulder and she jumps at the sound of his voice right by her ear. He winds an arm around her waist and pulls her into him, and she stares up at him, frowning a little. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining things but Matt’s touch seems almost a tad bit possessive and when he speaks to Gary his voice carries just a little note of jealousy. “But that’s for me to know.” Oh, she’s definitely not imagining things. Her frown deepens as she studies the dark look on his face, not quite sure what to make of it - why would he be jealous of _Gary_ ?   
  
He smiles down at her and she returns it easily, feeling the frown melt away as he asks her quietly, “Dance with me?”   
  
She sets her drink down on the table. “I’d love to.”   
  
He leads her to the dance floor, holding her close. His lips are pressed to her hair, his arms around her waist as they sway slowly to the beat of the music. They’re the only ones in the bar slow dancing but they don’t mind, quietly moving. She winds her arms shoulders, pressing her nose into the base of his neck gently.   
  
“You kept our wedding picture?” He asks quietly. The question is so sudden and unexpected that she blinks in confusion, looking up at him. He repeats the question again, a little quieter, and she swallows as her eyes avert to a spot behind his shoulder. “I saw it in your wallet, when I was paying for the drinks.”   
  
“Of course I kept it,” she mutters, still keeping her eyes away from his. “What else would I do with it?”   
  
“I - I dunno, I thought that maybe you - you threw it away or something,” he says uncertainly, and she can just feel his wide-eyed gaze on her. Her hands fidget a little around his neck, fingers playing around as she tries to think of a response. She’s saved of one when he continues, even more uncertainly, “It was torn. The picture, there were holes in the - ”   
  
“I know,” she says softly. She looks down. “It was my fault.”   
  
“You - you tore our wedding picture?” the way he asks her the question makes Alex flinch, makes her feel so guilty for letting damage get to their photo. He makes such a pitiful picture, eyes wide and his voice quiet as if he isn’t sure if he wants to hear an answer from her, that Alex rushes to explain, rushes to reassure him.   
  
“Not on purpose,” she whispers, and to her horror, she feels her eyes filling with tears. “I - I - ”   
  
“You don’t have to explain, Alex,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I know you were angry - it doesn’t matter, I promise. We’ll just - we’ll get another copy.”   
  
She considers correcting him - the picture hadn’t torn because she was _angry_ , it tore because she was heartbroken, so heartbroken that all she could do to keep herself sane was stare at the photo that had been one of the happiest days of her life - when she had gotten married to him. And their marriage was ending, then. It had nothing to do with anger.   
  
She sighs. “Matt, I - ”   
  
“Are you lovebirds going to keep to yourselves the entire night?” Denise calls, a teasing smile on her face. “Because Alison expected us to _bond_ on this outing, you know.”   
  
“We’ll be right there!” Matt says, shaking his head in laughter. He turns back to her, eyebrows raised. “What was it?”   
  
Alex swallows, then she shakes her head and lets go of his neck. “It’s nothing. Come on, the rest are waiting.”   
  
She tugs on his hand and leads him to the table, where Carla and Foster are doing a round of shots while Denise and Gary cheer them on. She laughs at the faces they make and shakes her head determinedly when they try to get her to join them, hitting Matt in the shoulder when he suggests that she gets horny when she drinks tequila. Which is not entirely untrue, but who needs to know that?   
  
Matt’s phone rings suddenly and he takes the call as the conversation continues. They’re having the time of their lives before they’re interrupted.   
  
“Fancy seeing you guys here!” A voice calls out - an all too familiar voice that Alex most certainly does not like. “I can’t believe we just bumped into each other like this - what a coincidence!”   
  
“Oh, hullo Rosalyn!” Denise greets cheerily. “Yeah - Alison and Kenny’s idea. She wanted the main cast to bond over a few drinks before we start filming tomorrow.”   
  
“Oh!” Rosalyn smiles sweetly at the cast, and Alex shifts a little, moving slightly away from Matt. Rosalyn gives Matt a tiny wave and he gives her a slight nod and smile in response before he goes back on the phone. “And Matty too?”   
  
“Oh well, you know, since he’s Alex’s _husband_ and everything,” Foster says, tilting his head at Rosalyn and lifting an eyebrow. Alex looks at him in surprise. “We just thought that it’d be nice to get to know him too.”   
  
Alex shoots Foster an appreciative smile and he gives her a shadow of a wink back. “So, what are you doing here, Rosalyn?”   
  
“Oh well, I had nothing to do today so I decided to go out exploring for a bit - my hotel’s just down the road from here and I’m in desperate need of a drink.” Rosalyn tilts her head at Matt just as he hangs up the phone, smiling at him. “Does anyone here want a drink? Oh, you all already have yours. Matty, you don’t have one - could you accompany me to the bar - ?”   
  
“Sure, but I don’t have my wallet on me, Ros,” he tells her, but Rosalyn just shrugs and beckons him over. Matt places a little kiss on Alex’s neck and whispers in her ear, “I’ll just be a moment, sweetheart.”   
  
She nods, letting Matt go. She ignores the looks she gets from Carla and Foster, shrugging as she downs her gin and tonic.   
  
“She’s a snake! As if anyone would believe her!” Carla explodes. She puts on a high, valley girl accent that would make Alex laugh in any other circumstance, “ _‘I decided to go out exploring for a bit’_ \- oh please! Exploring straight into another hotel bar, where she knows the network put us up? Yeah, right. And the way she acted with Matt! Right in front of everyone! Alex, why did you let him go with her?”   
  
Alex shrugs again, wiping her mouth as she sets the glass down on the table. She doesn’t want to look behind her, doesn’t want to look at how Rosalyn just barely brushes her fingers along his shoulders or his chest, doesn’t want to know what kind of bedroom eyes Rosalyn is giving him - and most importantly, she doesn’t want to know how much of that he’s giving _back_ to her.   
  
“What are you talking about?” Denise asks, laughing. “She isn’t a snake, Carla. It could’ve been a coincidence! And she just wanted Matt to accompany her to the bar, what’s wrong with that? Do you know how many drunk guys drool all over girls there? I’d want someone to accompany me too!”   
  
“You’re drunk, Denise.” Carla says with disdain.   
  
Denise just shrugs. “Don’t make unnecessary drama, Carla-kins.”   
  
“Yeah, I’m gonna go get a refill.” Alex interrupts them, turning her eyes onto Foster and batting her eyelashes at him. Foster laughs and stands, offering her his arm as they make their way from their table to the bar, a suitable distance away from Matt and Rosalyn.   
  
“You don’t like Rosalyn,” Foster says matter of factly.   
  
“That obvious?” Alex asks, sighing before ordering another drink from the bartender. “I’m trying not to let it show. Is it working?”   
  
“It is,” Foster nods. “A little too much. Matt doesn’t even know that you think she’s a threat, and he’s letting her put her claws all over him.”   
  
“If Matt wants her claws - _hands_ \- all over him, then I won’t stop him.” Alex says determinedly. “But I’m not going to sit idly by while this happens.” She sighs and slaps her hand to her forehead. “God, this is the whole reason I left in the first place! So I could be away from all this when it finally happens. And now I’m contract-bound to watch Matt blindly fall into Rosa - ”   
  
“Oh shit,” Foster interrupts her, eyes wide as he stares at a spot behind her. She knows immediately what he’s staring at and she braces herself, clenching her jaws and her fists. “She just pressed herself against him and he - he didn’t move.”   
  
“Right. Well, this was fun.” She smiles at Foster, a little pained but she forces her mouth to stretch anyway. She downs her refill and gathers her purse. “Tell the others that I’ve got to cut it short. Big day tomorrow, can’t risk being in the wrong headspace.”   
  
“Alex, I - shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”   
  
“You didn’t do anything. You have nothing to apologise for.” She assures him, stroking a hand over his dark skin. She pats his hand on the counter and stands. “If anything happens, just - call me. I’m going to - I don’t know where, but I’m getting out of here.”   
  
She rushes out of the hotel, sighing as the cool night air hits her skin and fills her lungs. She feels too tipsy to cry and yet not tipsy enough, because she can clearly see the image that Foster described clearly in her head: Rosalyn pressing herself up against Matt’s body, her charming and seductive smile painted on her face as Matt smiles down at her too. She hates it, hates that she can still imagine it clearly.   
  
She takes in lungfuls of air before slowly walking to the side of the road, looking around for a taxi. She tries unsuccessfully to hail a bunch of cabs but they just drive past her, and she curses as she takes her mobile out and tries to use the Uber app that Salome helped her set up a few months ago. She’s so caught up in figuring out how to use the damn thing that she doesn’t notice anyone approaching her until a voice speaks right next to her ear.   
  
“Leaving me all alone, Kingston?” Matt says, and she jumps a mile high, her heart speeding up from the shock as she clutches the stitch in her chest. He throws his head back in laughter as she hits his shoulder three times with her purse, a little because he scared her but mostly because she still can’t get that bloody image of him and Rosalyn out of her head. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!”   
  
“What are you doing out here?” She asks, once she calms down enough to look at him.   
  
“I could ask you the same question,” he says, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “Told you I’d just be a minute, Alex, did something come up or - ?”   
  
“No, no I just - felt a little dizzy. Needed a bit of fresh air.” She lies. “And Rosalyn?”   
  
“What about her?” He asks, frowning. She gives him a look. “She’s with the others. They’re doing shots.” He smiles a little at her and she raises an eyebrow, because it’s that same look - the one he gives her when he wants to ask her something. “Do you want to get out of here? Get something to eat?”   
  
“And the others - ?” Alex starts, glancing back at the hotel. Matt raises an eyebrow.   
  
“So you’re telling me you were trying to hail a cab because you _weren’t_ going to leave?” He asks pointedly, and Alex flushes.   
  
“Okay, fine.” Alex says, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Where do you want to go?”   
  
“Er - well, I don’t really know this part of town, to be honest,” Matt says, scratching his cheek as he turns from left to right.   
  
Alex laughs, shaking her head. Of course he doesn’t. She takes hold of his arm, pulling him in one direction. “Let’s just take a walk then, shall we?”   
  
He goes willingly, taking the hand she placed on his arm and pressing a warm kiss on it. He interlaces their fingers together as they walk, no idea where they’re going or what they’re looking for, but it’s the first time that Alex doesn’t feel heartbreak or sadness when they’re alone. It’s nice, and it almost feels like nothing ever changed between them as they walk in comfortable silence, hand in hand through the cold and quiet streets of London.   
  
“So, um - Laura’s birthday party is in two weeks,” he tells her. “You know how much she loves you, and it’d be great if you could - come with me, and - and maybe we can - ”   
  
“Does she know?” Alex asks, looking down at the pavement as they continue walking. “About - about us?”   
  
“No,” he says quietly. Then, he clears his throat and says, a little louder, “No, I - I haven’t told anyone except the casting directors for the show, and Daniel.”   
  
“Your agent? That Daniel?” She asks, frowning. He nods. “Why?”   
  
“He - he had a job for me. Another audition.” He looks away uncomfortably. He doesn’t regret for a moment choosing Alex over those offers but he knows that if he even mentions it Alex would never agree. “And I had to tell him I couldn’t, because you - ”   
  
“Because I left.” She finishes, nodding. She sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“Stop apologising,” he says. He doesn’t look at her but his grip on her hand tightens just a little. “You wouldn’t have left if I’d been a better husband.”   
  
She stays silent, not quite sure what to say to that. Matt is speaking so plainly, so matter of factly and Alex has no idea how to tell them that she needn’t have left if she’d just stopped being scared to talk to him about everything. She knows it’s selfish to let him continue believing that this is all his fault, but she still isn’t ready. Not yet, but soon, she promises herself that.   
  
“Anyway,” he says, letting a small smile flicker on his face before it just turns hopeful, his eyes glancing down to their clasped hands. “I was really hoping you’d come to the party. We don’t have to stay long, we could just have a few drinks, see my sister and we can be off in an hour, max. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”   
  
“Oh, you know Laura would never allow us to stay for just an hour.” Alex laughs, remembering her sister-in-law’s flair for the dramatic. She smiles fondly and thinks that it would be lovely to see Laura again after years of just sporadic phone calls here and there. “I’d love to come. I’ve quite missed spending time with your sister since we moved to LA.”   
  
“Me too,” Matt nods. He slows his pace and Alex follows suit, until he goes to a stop in front of a store. “Me too. Kebabs?”   
  
“What?” Alex asks, frowning.   
  
Matt gestures to the kebab store they stopped in front of. “You said you wanted to get something to eat.”   
  
“Excuse me, you were the one who asked. I never said yes.” Alex corrects smartly. Matt raises an eyebrow at her and she looks between him and the kebab, the aroma of spiced meat and warm flatbread tingling her senses and making her stomach grumble loudly. “Fine, let’s get a kebab.”   
  
Matt smirks as if he can hear her stomach growling and she purses her lips, handing him her wallet and instructing him to ‘just order anything’ while she finds them a seat at the back of the store. He comes back fifteen minutes later, her wallet tucked under his arm as he balances a large plate and two drinks on a tray. Alex watches, an amused smile on her face, as Matt sidesteps chairs and tables that are out of place, walking around other customers and trying not to fall over. Once he finally sets the tray down at their table, a pleased smile on his face, she looks up at him in amusement, eyes twinkling.   
  
“Congratulations, I’m a hundred and fifty years old.” She says with mock disdain, her eyebrow raised and just a hint of a smile on her face.   
  
“Yes well, you using your eye power from all the way across the room certainly didn’t help.” Matt says smartly, taking his seat and pointing a fork at her. “I think the cashier recognised us. His eyes were as wide as saucers when I took my order.”   
  
She looks down at the ginormous plate in front of her, filled with meat, vegetables, hummus and some bread as well as a small serving of lentil rice.   
  
“And what is this?”   
  
“The Kebab Platter. Apparently it’s famous among couples.” Matt smiles at her and she rolls her eyes, picking up her fork and digging in. “The cashier recommended it. It could also be because it’s the most expensive thing in the menu, but I like to take a chance on people.”   
  
“Mmhmm. Probably helped that I’m paying for it, right?” Alex nods, her mouth full of meat and tomatoes. Matt shrugs, though the little smile on his face doesn’t escape her notice. Her eyes closes in pleasure and she moans as the food melts in her mouth, sighing in bliss. She swallows quickly and takes another bite. “Matt, this is delicious!”   
  
When she opens her eyes again, Matt is staring at her with his wide open, still not having taken a bite of the food. She licks her lips and frowns at him.   
  
“Is there something wrong? Did I get something on my mouth?” She asks, reaching for a napkin.   
  
“No - no, it’s just - I forgot.” He says softly. He frowns and turns away, muttering, “How could I forget that?”   
  
“Forget what?” She asks, eyes wide.   
  
“How you can make everything so bloody sexy.” He says, shaking his head. “How you can make _kebabs_ so bloody sexy.”   
  
“Oh, Matt,” she laughs breathlessly, a tinge of red colouring her cheeks. “Stop it, you flatterer.”   
  
“Not a chance.” He smiles.   
  
The rest of the meal goes by in a blaze of flirty touches and innuendo, and it feels so much like when they first got married that Alex forgets. She forgets that she left, forget why she left and it feels so, so amazing. She wishes that they could stay exactly like that, in that kebab store, finishing a meal fit for four people, just laughing and enjoying each other’s company. This is exactly what she’s wanted from him for months, for them to just be together as a couple, to talk and flirt and share stories like they’ve always been since the start. She barely notices anything else that’s going on right now, choosing instead to focus on Matt.   
  
“You’ve got a little something there,” she says, a coy smile lighting up her face as she gestures around her own mouth. His hand flies up immediately, not quite wiping away the hint of sauce from the chicken. “No - it’s a little to the left - my left - no, not there - here, let me just help you with that - ”   
  
She grabs a napkin and leans over the table a little to reach him. She pats his chin gently, removing the dark sauce as she holds his chin in place to keep him from moving away. When she’s done, her fingers linger on his face for just a moment longer before she withdraws her hand, crumpling up the dirty napkin.   
  
“There, I got it.” She smiles, settling back down on her seat and picking up her fork again.   
  
“Thanks,” he mumbles, a pleased smile lighting up his face even though his cheeks are red as a tomato. He watches as she nods a little, and realises with a rising panic that the fun, flirty mood that they had earlier is gone. She pokes at her food with her fork a little awkwardly, chewing slowly and not saying anything else.   
  
She lifts her fork again, her mouth open - and it’s almost as if everything is happening in slow motion, because before he knows it he’s knocking her fork out of the way and holding his own to her mouth.   
  
“What the - ” she exclaims bewilderedly, as her fork clatters onto the table and bits of chicken, hummus, tomatoes and onions fly everywhere. She raises her eyebrow at him and then looks at the fork he’s holding in front of her. “What are you doing?”   
  
“Feeding you.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He gives his fork a little nudge, pushing it closer to her. “Go on.”   
  
“Matt, I’m not the one who needs to be fed like a child.” She looks pointedly at where he spilled a little of his drink on his shirt, leaving a dark stain on his chest.   
  
“Oi! I’m not a child - and neither are you. I’m just - ” he gives the fork another push towards her mouth but she just purses her lips together and raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s a thing that couples do!”   
  
“Yeah well, seeing as you dropped my fork on the table I think it’s only right that you feed me the rest, Mr Smith.” She says, before she takes a bite and gives him a small smile. He returns it a little gratefully.   
  
“As you wish, Ms Kingston.” He says gracefully. He smiles widely on the inside, sighing a little in relief when the awkwardness melts away between them and the fun, flirty mood arrives back again.   
  
He spends the rest of their meal feeding her, giving her more of the chicken and hummus because he knows she likes those best. They’re almost done with their meal when Alex notices people with cameras by the windows of the shop, and she rolls her eyes and sighs as she looks at Matt.   
  
“I guess the cashier _did_ recognise you.” She says. Matt raises his eyebrows in question and she nods to the windows. “Paparazzi.”   
  
“Do you want to leave?” He asks, dropping the fork.   
  
She shakes her head. “They can’t print anything worse than they already did, anyway. Let’s just finish this and leave.”   
  
“Alright.” Matt concedes easily, picking the fork back up again.   
  
Even with the paparazzi's sudden presence by the store, she manages to smile and laugh with Matt. She can tell he’s putting in a lot of effort to make her forget about the people taking their pictures, and she’s all the more grateful for him.   
  
When they’re all done, he gives her another one of those brilliant smiles and she laughs, because she knows exactly what is about to come next -   
  
“Run with me, Kingston,” he gives her his hand and she grabs on, laughing.   
  
They run like they did the night they announced their relationship to the world. They run like every other occasion they’ve been stalked by the press and chased by fans, run like they never stopped doing this in the first place. It makes her feel so very happy and when they finally reach the hotel, panting and gasping for air in the elevator, she can’t help but help a delighted laugh escape her lips.   
  
He joins in soon enough, and when the elevator door opens to their level they’re laughing, holding the stitches in their chest as they stumble down the corridor towards their rooms. She’s sure that they’re bound to get complaints with all the noise they’re making, but she doesn’t care about it all as Matt pushes her up against her hotel room door, chest to chest.   
  
She reaches out and brushes his long fringe away from his face, staring intently up at his face. She licks her lips nervously as her fingers brush against his cheek. “Thank you for tonight. It’s the most fun I’ve had in - in months.”   
  
He falters a little, the reminder of their current situation and where he stands with her no doubt a blast of cold water to his happy, carefree attitude. He nods and swallows a little, smiling weakly at her. “No problem, Kingston. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”   
  
“Yeah,” she says quietly, her fingers dropping to his chest. “I’m - I’m going in now.”   
  
“Right. Goodnight, Kingston.” He says, though he makes no move to leave.   
  
“Goodnight, Matt.” She breathes, lifting herself off the door - but that just presses herself more into him, and before she knows it her arms are around his shoulders and her head is on his chest.   
  
He winds his arms around her middle, pressing her further into him as he nuzzles her hair. He presses a tender kiss to her head and holds her tightly. “I love you.”   
  
She lets go of him, placing a light peck on his lips and giving him a bright smile before she turns around.   
  
“Good luck for your first day tomorrow, Kingston.” He says, as she unlocks the door. “You’ll do great. You always do.”   
  
“Thank you.” She says, looking down a little shyly. “Goodnight.” She says again.   
  
“Goodnight.” He says. She shuts the door quietly and he stays outside for a few moments, smiling quietly to himself as he thinks about all the progress they’ve made today. He has a few more weeks to convince her and so far, they’ve had a great start.   
  
He thinks about how Alex makes him feel, how he can’t ever imagine living his life without her, how much he loves her. Then he thinks about their dinner together, how much fun that had been, and he feels his heart flutter like a little lovesick teenager. And he loves it. He loves her.   
  
On the other side of Alex’s hotel room door, she’s leaning against the door as she smiles, her head falling back. She’s blushing just a little, running her hand through her hair as she feels her heart pounding in her chest. She’s well past her teenage years but Matt makes her feel like she’s still seventeen, giggling and simpering and her heart thumps just a bit faster and harder when he’s near.   
  
They fall asleep separately but with only each other in their minds.


	9. this is not a second chance or a new romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from break up song by little mix

He tells her to meet him at the lobby of their hotel on their next off day, and when she asks what the dress code is he simply smiles and tells her to wear whatever she wants. She shows up in a long, flowery dress, a wide-brimmed hat nestled on top of her curls, and comfy flats covering her feet - perfect for a walk on the beach, and he narrows his eyes at her.   
  
“How did you know where we’d be going?” he asks, looking her outfit up and down suspiciously. She looks amazing, she always does.   
  
“I guessed,” she smiles smugly, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he offers her his hand. She takes it gently, slipping her sunglasses onto her nose as they set out in the summer sunshine - something that doesn’t happen very often in the UK, and she’s quite grateful for it.    
  
As they walk down the pathway towards the beach, they chat idly about everything and anything, him leading the conversation and her letting him because she still doesn’t really know what to say. He asks her about Salome, and he watches, a fond smile spreading across his face as her eyes light up at the mention of her daughter. She spends a good half an hour telling him all about how she’s so proud of how well she’s growing and the person she’s becoming, and he listens, interjecting sometimes and asking her questions but mainly just letting Alex brag about her daughter.   
  
When she finds that she doesn’t have anything else to update Matt on, she clears her throat and looks away towards the ocean, a nostalgic smile on her face as she whispers, “And she misses you.”   
  
“Really?” he asks in surprise, before he coughs and says hurriedly, “Yeah I - tell the poppet that I miss her too, next time you talk to her, yeah?”   
  
She nods once, still not looking at him. Even though their hands are still clasped together it feels as though she might as well be on the other side of the ocean, all the distance between them like a hurdle he can’t cross. His grip on her hand tightens instinctively as his mind races, trying to come up with appropriate questions to keep the conversation light. As they walk down the stone pathway in silence, he spots a little ice cream cafe in the distance and a bright grin settles on his face as he turns towards Alex.    
  
She follows the path of his gaze and her eyes widens as she sees the ice cream shop, shaking her head even as a reluctant grin spreads on her face.    
  
“Matt, the last time we got ice cream  _ you _ got a cold because you ate too much at once -”   
  
“I know better now!” he says in defence, tugging on her hand and quickening his pace towards the ice cream shop, the sound of her laughter tinkling in his ears. “C’mon Alex, share an ice cream cone with me?”   
  
“I’m getting my own.” she says, raising her eyebrows and daring him to challenge her. “You can get ice cream all down your front if you want, but you’re not involving me in that.”   
  
He shrugs. “That’s fair.”   
  
They exit the ice cream shop fifteen minutes later, their hands no longer clasped as he tries to balance his three scoops of ice cream on one cone. She looks at him, amusement evident on her face as he hurriedly licks the ice cream before it melts. She enjoys her single scoop, taking her time with licking the edges of the cone before it drips onto her hand, smirking when she catches him watching the movement of her tongue.   
  
“Careful there,” she says, her voice low. “You’re gonna get ice cream on your hand if you don’t finish it up soon.”   
  
He eyes her ice cream cone and she holds it out of reach, clucking her tongue.   
  
“Alex!”   
  
“No.” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not my fault you chose three scoops of the  _ same flavour _ , Matt.”   
  
“But I - please?” he asks, his eyes widening a little as she laughs and shakes her head.   
  
“Oh no no no - don’t think that your little puppy dog act is gonna work on me, Matthew, I am  _ not _ giving you my ice cream.” she says, walking in front of him so that he won’t be able to sneak a lick at her ice cream cone.    
  
“Please!” he pleads, jogging lightly to keep up with her pace, eyeing her strawberry cheesecake ice cream. “I’ll let you try mine if you let me try yours.” he offers, holding his blueberry ice cream hopefully.    
  
She narrows her eyes, looking at his blueberry ice cream as if trying to determine whether it was worth conceding defeat to him. In the end, she gives in, letting out an exaggerated sigh and rolling her eyes. “Fine, but only  _ one _ taste, Matthew, I’m watching you.” she reaches out, her tongue darting out to taste the ice cream lightly. She then holds out her strawberry cheesecake ice cream for him to taste but he sidesteps her hand, leaning down to lick the corners of her mouth instead. She gasps in surprise as he places his lips on hers fully, his cold tongue swiping across her lips and groaning in pleasure when she opens her mouth under his. His tongue swipes across the insides of her mouth, tasting her ice cream as she sucks his tongue, the flavours lingering on their taste buds even after they part.    
  
He smiles when he pulls away, licking his lips. “Delicious. The ice cream wasn’t that bad too.”   
  
“Shut up,” she giggles, bringing her cone to her lips again and smiling shyly. He watches her turn and continue the way they’d been going before he stopped her, tilting his head and watching the way she moves as she walks.   
  
They finish the rest of their ice cream in silence, only occasionally pointing out little things like the children playing in the park, or the blind busker on the street corner playing some songs on his keyboard. By the time they reach the sandy beaches the sun is already low on the horizon, and their hands are tightly clasped together again. He’s holding her flats in one hand and her sunglasses are long gone, and he has to admit that even though she looked amazing in those sunglasses, the light of the sunset in her eyes and on her face will always be the most stunning thing he’s ever seen.    
  
He pulls her towards a bench in the far end of the beach, where it’s usually deserted - today, there are only one or two families left surrounding them, and they’re far out of earshot, so he’s confident they won’t be heard. He tugs her down on the seat beside him, keeping an arm around her as the chill of the night starts to descend upon them, rubbing her shoulders in an effort to keep her warm.    
  
“This okay?” he asks. She nods, leaning into him and keeping her eyes on the sun, disappearing over the horizon.   
  
They sit in silence for a while, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder and just the sound of the waves meeting the sand gently and the birds chirping in the trees surrounding them filling their ears. After a few minutes she turns to him, looking up at his face with wide eyes.   
  
“Why are you trying so hard?” she asks. He’s momentarily stunned, the question echoing in his mind as the answer comes to him, as naturally as he’s drawn to her.   
  
“You’re my wife.” he answers, his hand around her shoulder tightening.   
  
She turns back to the ocean, the blue waters glistening beautifully. “That never mattered to anyone before.”   
  
He looks down at her, watches how her fingers fiddle in her lap, how the uncertainty in her voice mirrors every insecurity she’s ever had about her romantic relationships. He feels the anger bubble up at everyone who has ever treated her lesser than how she deserved to be treated and breathes deeply, knowing that he’s been added to the list. Knowing that he’s just like every other romantic relationship she’s had - making promises to her and then breaking them, and his heart clenches in his chest because now all he wants to do is go back and rewrite everything he’s ever done that made her leave. He drops a kiss onto her hair, leaning his cheek down on her head.    
  
“It matters to me,” he whispers against her hair, his other hand reaching out to grasp hers in her lap. “Always.” he says, repeating their promise to each other - their own little catchphrase that had meant everything to them, before it all fell apart.    
  
She shakes her head pulling her hands out of his grasp and turning her whole body to face him, shrugging his hand off her shoulder as she did. “If it mattered to you before we wouldn’t be in this position now.” she says calmly, her eyes hard. Her fists are clenched on her lap and she sits rigidly beside him. The wind blows her curls around wildly and Matt is reminded of a nature goddess, every inch as wild and unpredictable as Alex. “So tell me why, Matthew.”   
  
He stares at her for a few seconds, watches as the lines of uncertainty in her face deepens the longer she waits for an answer from him. He’s always known that convincing her for another try isn’t going to be easy but he doesn’t want to give up on them - not when she’s the only person who could ever make him as happy as he is.   
  
He doesn’t say anything for a long while, his fingers digging around in his pockets before they finally close around a small metal band, pulling it out and showing it to her.   
  
“That’s my -” she cuts herself off, staring at the ring. She still knows every crevice of it, can sometimes still feel the weight of the diamond on her finger, but she’s never seen it since that night she’d left several weeks ago. Her eyes flicker up to meet his but he’s staring at the ring that he’s holding in his hand like it has his heart and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes mist over and he swallows carefully.    
  
“I made a mistake,” he whispers, his hazel eyes finally meeting hers. His fingers still clutch around the diamond ring tightly, holding on to it like it’s a lifeline and he can’t bear to let it go or he’ll drown. “And it cost me - it cost me this. You. Everything.” his voice cracks involuntarily on the last word and his eyes drop back to the ring in his hand. “I’m trying so hard because every night I spend in my hotel room alone, knowing that you’re just a few doors away hurts more than when I’m halfway across the world from you. You’re so near but so, so far and I know it’s my fault - I can’t put the blame on anyone else but me and I need to earn you back again. I’m trying so hard because I want to see this,” he pushes the wedding ring into her hand, his own trembling slightly as though letting it go is the worst thing he’ll ever do. “Back where it belongs - on your left hand.”   
  
He pauses, his fingers curling around his own knee tightly as though he’s trying to keep himself from touching what he isn’t supposed to. “But, even if it never does,” he looks away and clears his throat roughly. The very thought of the ring remaining in her possession but never on her hand makes it incredibly difficult to speak. “Even if I try my hardest for a month - and for the rest of my life - and you still decide that you don’t want me in yours,” the tears build up involuntarily in his eyes and he looks at her, wanting her to know that he’s genuine and sincere, that he’s nothing if not honest right now, in this moment. “Then this ring will always be yours, just like my heart will always be yours.”   
  
“Matthew,” she breathes, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “I -”   
  
“It’s yours.”  _ I’m yours. _ He swallows roughly. “Always. Keep it.”   
  
Her fingers close around the ring, the one she’s worn for the past three years but only recently taken off - and she presses her lips to the gem gently, breathing slowly and shutting her eyes. She slips the ring delicately into the pocket in her dress.   
  
She turns back towards the ocean, leaning her back against the bench but maintaining the distance between them. The sun is almost disappearing against the horizon now, a mere stretch of an orange glow against the blue sea, and they remain silent for a while, their breathing slow and heavy.   
  
“You won’t have to try for the rest of your life,” she says suddenly, her eyes still on the sea. His head swivels towards her, his eyes bright with hope.    
  
“I won’t?” he asks, unsure.   
  
“No,” she turns her head towards him, smiling softly at him - and he’s struck for the hundredth time that day just how  _ beautiful _ his wife is, honey skin glowing in the soft light of the sunset and her smile lighting up her entire face. He smiles back, unable to help himself. His hands reach out towards her tentatively, and when she doesn’t react to his touch, he grasps her hips and tugs her closer, holding her close against him. She buries her face in his shoulder as he presses his lips against the corner of her mouth, his head dropping to whisper in her ear.   
  
“I love you.” he nuzzles his head into her skin, breathing in deeply. “More than anything, Alex. Always.”   
  
She doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t expect her to - she just places a kiss to his shoulder blade, snuggling into his warmth even more - and he knows that it means  _ I love you too. _ _   
_   
*   
  
That night, after he sends her to her door with a small goodnight kiss to the corner of her mouth, she slips into her bed, her mind buzzing with everything that happened. She lays alone on the mattress, her eyes wide as she replays everything he said to her on that beach. His words echo in her head like a song that plays on a loop, constantly, and she finds herself analysing every single thing, every action and every emotion that came across his face.    
  
She tosses and turns, hugs a pillow to her chest and buries her face in it, but somehow, no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to switch her brain off long enough for her to fall asleep. Her mind wanders to Matt, what he said earlier -  _ I’m trying so hard because every night I spend alone in my hotel room, knowing that you’re just a few doors away from me hurts more than when I’m halfway across the world from you. _ _   
_   
She sighs and sits up, grabbing her robe and tying a hasty knot across the front. She pads out of her hotel room and makes her way to his, knowing exactly which one he’s in even though she’s never set foot in his room before - she’s watched him come in and out of that same hotel room way too many times to count.    
  
She knocks on the door, knowing that it wouldn’t take very long for Matt to wake up - he doesn’t sleep as well in hotels as he does in flats or houses. She folds her arms and waits, knocking three more times before she hears the distant sound of feet shuffling on the other side of the door.   
  
The door swings open and Matt appears, eyes still weary with sleep and his hair a ruffled mess. He’s wearing fuzzy socks, boxers and a sleeveless tee, and she raises her eyebrows.   
  
“Is this how you answer the door every time?” She teases, amused.   
  
“Only when it’s in the middle of the night - what time is it?” He disappears behind the door to look at the clock. “Alex, it’s two am and we have to be up in four hours - what’s wrong? Did something happen?”   
  
“No - no, it’s nothing.” She smiles, sighing and already heading back towards her room. “Go back to sleep, Matt. I’ll deal with it.”   
  
“Hey - no, Alex, come back,” he says, suddenly more alert and energetic as he bounces out of the hotel room, careful to leave the door open behind him. “Trouble sleeping? How may I be of service?”   
  
He bows to her like a butler and she bites her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud because the sight really is ridiculous - his hair is still all messy, and his attire is anything but butler-like.    
  
“No, really, honey - I’ll just go back to my room and try again - you go back to sleep.” She tries, but he pouts.    
  
“I can hardly go to sleep now that I know a lady is having such trouble sleeping,” he says courteously, bowing again. This time a full-blown smile appears on her face and when he realises this, he gives her a bright grin of his own as he says, extending his hand towards her, “Please, allow me to help you, my fair maiden.”   
  
“Oh, hush you,” she laughs, taking his hand and walking past him to his room. She shuts the door behind him and turns to him. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”   
  
It seems awkward, asking her husband if she’s allowed to sleep in his room when it should be something they’re used to - but she bites her lip and reminds herself that the only reason she has to ask for permission is because she’d left.    
  
“Oh!” He says, surprised. A small smile comes across his face and he nods. “Sure - let me just go get some extra pillows and stuff. Do you mind waiting out here while I get the room ready for you?”   
  
“Oh, no darling I don’t mind, we can just -”   
  
“It’s just one minute, Alex, really.” He rushes off in the direction of his bedroom, disappearing behind the door before she can make another noise of protest.   
  
She waits for less than a minute before he appears again, his arms laden with pillows that he dumps onto the couch in the living room, and she stares at him with wide eyes as he settles himself down on the couch.   
  
“Er - you’re not, I mean - aren’t you -” she stammers, a little confused. She points vaguely towards the bedroom door and he scratches his cheek, sitting up again and looking at her.   
  
“I didn’t realise you wanted me to.” He says quietly. “Do you want me to?”   
  
“Um - yes, yes I do but if you don’t I can -”   
  
“No!” He says hurriedly, lifting himself off the sofa and gathering the pillows into his arms. “No, I’d love to - I just thought that you wanted to -”   
  
“You thought I came all the way here and asked to sleep in your room because I wanted to sleep alone?” She asks, amusement lining every word as she follows him into the bedroom.    
  
“Well, I thought that - that you -” he pauses, before he shakes his head. “Now, when you put it like that it just sounds stupid.”   
  
“Three guesses why,” she says dryly.   
  
He shoots her a look that makes her laugh, and as they enter the bedroom again, the first time in a few months that they’ve been alone in a bedroom together, the first time they’re about to sleep in the same bed together - it feels entirely too new and foreign for a couple who’s been married for three years and together for five.   
  
“Uh, so I guess we should just -” says Matt, gesturing to the bed.   
  
“Get to bed. Right.” She finishes. She lifts the covers and slides in gingerly, her body tense. She feels him doing the same at his side.   
  
For a few silent moments, they do nothing but lay there, tense and rigid under the covers as if they haven’t been in this exact same position a thousand times before. She cringes at the awkwardness and curses herself for coming in here and asking to sleep in the same room with him. She sits up suddenly, sighing and turning to him.   
  
“Maybe this was a bad idea -” she starts, making a motion to leave, but Matt sits up as well, stopping her with a hand on her arm.   
  
“Wait - don’t leave, I -” he tugs her down gently, ignoring the little nervous pounding of his heart as she pauses, looking straight at him. He manages a small smile as he pulls her down onto the bed again. “Would it be better if I - can I hold you?”   
  
“Yes - yes, of course -” she says, trying not to sound too relieved or too hurried, because when she asked for a night in his room, she’d expected it to be a natural occurrence - him holding her close as they fell asleep - and not something he’d have to ask for.    
  
He gives her a happy smile and scoots closer to her. She turns towards him, moving closer to the middle of the bed as he holds his arms out. She slips into his arms, her own arm wrapped lazily around his middle and another on his chest as he wraps her firmly around him and pulls her closer. She buries her nose in his chest and smiles - she never realised how much she missed sleeping next to him until now.    
  
“I’ve missed this,” he admits quietly into her hair.   
  
“Yeah,” she agrees, resisting the urge to press a kiss onto his chest. “Me too.”   
  
He holds her tightly, securely in his arms. It’s the first time in so long that she’s in his arms at night and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it, the feeling too good. He closes his eyes and savours the feeling of having her in his bed after so long, imagining that everything between them is finally fixed and okay, imagining that she’d finally decided to come back to him, come back home.   
  
Her curls tickle his chin and his neck but he doesn’t mind - he’s missed it, just like he’s missed everything about her. Sleeping alone in his bed has never felt quite the same after having her to sleep with for the past four and a half years. He misses everything, from the weight of her in his arms, to the way her perfume fills his nose every time he breathes in. He misses her light snoring and the way her fingers curl eventually around him, as if she can’t bear to let him go. He can’t bear to let her go.   
  
He thinks that if this is the last time he’ll ever have her in his arms again then he doesn’t ever want the night to end.    
  
When the morning comes, he’s the first one to wake even though he spent the majority of the night staring at her. He lets his eyes roam hungrily over every little detail of her face, in absolute awe of how beautiful and peaceful she looks when she’s asleep -  _ how _ had he forgotten that? He shakes his head and holds her tighter, feeling as though if he holds her tighter he can hold on to her a little longer somehow.   
  
Inevitably, she starts to stir, and as she uncurls herself from him and starts to stretch, the first rays of sunshine illuminating her face, he stares unashamedly, his eyes tracing every little detail of her. She finishes her stretching and flops back on the bed, a tired smile coming over her face as she turns to him.    
  
“Sleep well?” She asks, stifling a yawn.   
  
“Better than I’ve had in months.” He says - it isn’t a lie. He feels so much better when she’s next to him, asleep or awake.    
  
Her smile widens and she scoots over closer to him, placing a hand on his cheek and stroking his skin softly.   
  
“Thank you,” she whispers.    
  
“It was nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve missed you so much, love - and sleeping next to you again felt  _ amazing _ . I know that it was just for last night, but I - it felt great, hugging you to sleep.”   
  
“I’ve missed you too,” she says quietly. “That’s why I - I couldn’t sleep last night and I thought that if I slept next to you I’d fall asleep easier.”   
  
“And it worked, didn’t it?” He asks, and she nods, a small laugh escaping her lips at the hopeful look on his face. He smiles, satisfied with her answer. “Well, anytime you need help to sleep, Kingston - you know where to find me.”   
  
“Indeed I do.”

*

  
“Ready, Alex?” He asks.    
  
When Alex answered the door in nothing but her yoga pants and sports bra, flushed and sweaty, Matt felt his mouth dry and his pants become very, very tight. Luckily, he managed to hide all of this, though he did catch Alex looking at him strangely as he bent over to tie his loose shoelaces. She told him that she’d need at least half an hour more to get ready and said that he should go ahead and have breakfast without her, or they’ll be late for Laura’s party. He hesitated on that, offering to just wait in her hotel for her, but she insisted that he get some food first, and then she closed the door so he wouldn’t argue any further.    
  
So he sits at the breakfast bar of the hotel, alone, waiting for any sign of Alex as he pokes at his stacks of pancakes and strips of bacon. It’s only been fifteen minutes and he knows that Alex would probably take longer than that, but he can’t help himself. He’s always excited when it comes to Alex.    
  
“Got room for one more?”    
  
He looks up and sees Rosalyn, holding her own breakfast platter as she gives him a smile. He smiles back, nodding.   
  
“What are you doing here?” He asks.   
  
Rosalyn rolls her eyes. “I prefer to eat my breakfast here. It’s miles better than what they serve at my hotel.”   
  
“Isn’t your hotel the one that has excellent reviews for their restaurants?” He frowns at her.    
  
“Supposedly. I guess it’s just not to my taste.” She shrugs, digging into her own stack of pancakes. Her long, brown fringe keeps falling over her face as she bends over her plate to eat, and even though she keeps tucking her hair back behind her ear it always escapes.   
  
“You still haven’t gotten a hairband?” Matt says.    
  
Rosalyn looks up at him, and for some reason he detects a trace of annoyance in her stare. He frowns and opens his mouth to ask her about it when Alex’s voice calls out.   
  
“I’m ready. Sorry I took so long, will we be there on time?” She asks, before she sees Rosalyn sitting opposite Matt. She gives the girl a smile. “Hello, Rosalyn.”   
  
“Hello.” She says, not unkindly, but just the mere sound of her voice makes Alex want to grind her teeth. She knows it’s catty, but she can’t help it. “Where’re you guys going?”   
  
“Oh - my sister’s birthday is today. We’re going to her birthday party.” Matt says, standing up. “Excuse us, we don’t want to be late.”   
  
“Oh.” Rosalyn says, a little disappointed. “Well, have fun! And don’t forget we have a scene to film together tomorrow, Matty.”   
  
“Yes, of course.” He says, giving her a smile. He turns to Alex. “Ready, Alex?”   
  
She nods and loops her arm around his as they walk away. “What was Rosalyn doing here? Isn’t her hotel just nearby or something?”   
  
“Yeah, but she says the food in our hotel is miles better.” Matt shrugs.    
  
“Mmm. Right.” Alex says doubtfully, pursing her lips.   
  
“Something wrong?” Matt asks.   
  
“No, no - just thinking.” She says lightly, giving him a small smile.    
  
Laura’s birthday party is a big affair. It’s wild and extravagant, just like Laura, and the best part of it - in Alex’s opinion, at least - is the drinking game that everyone loves to participate in.   
  
Laura describes a scenario that might’ve happened during her year and the guests must guess whether it is true or false. If you get it wrong, you take a shot. The entire party always gets drunk at this stage, and Alex loves it.   
  
She sits out of a few rounds, citing work as an excuse not to play, but Laura drags her in anyway, insisting that she play a few rounds before she leaves. Matt is sitting in the corner of the living room with an amused smile on his face, watching as Laura pushes a reluctant Alex into the middle of the crowd. She hands Alex a shot glass and a bottle of tequila before stumbling to the front of the room to start a new round.    
  
Alex finds that it’s quite easy to cheat in a guessing game when three quarters of its participants are drunk. She still takes a couple of shots though, so it doesn’t seem suspicious when she leaves the party fully sober. She can feel Matt watching her and she turns her head to lock eyes with him. He’s leaning with his back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face. He’s been allowed to sit out of the drinking game since he has to drive Alex back to the hotel later on.   
  
Alex swallows as she looks at him, knocking back a shot even though she has no idea what Laura just said. She’s quite forgotten how sexy he is, and it may be the combination of the alcohol and dark lighting, but Matt looks absolutely delicious tonight.    
  
She shakes her head and turns back to Laura just as she calls the final round. There are cheers in the crowd and Alex still has no idea Laura said but she brings the glass to her lips anyway and swallows.   
  
After the game, music starts playing from somewhere and the crowd begins to dance. Before Alex can even find a quiet spot for herself, a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her roughly into a room, shutting the door behind her.   
  
Laura beams as Alex stumbles through the door after her. “Alex! Finally, we can talk!”   
  
“Talk?” Alex frowns, slightly concerned that Laura has caught on to her and Matt’s situation somehow. “About what?”   
  
Laura collapses onto a couch and crooks her finger towards Alex. Alex complies, bending down and placing her ear near her sister-in-law’s mouth. “About you and Matt, of course! Silly!” She says loudly, making Alex jump as she giggles.   
  
“Okay,” Alex says, as Laura somehow produces two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She pours both of them a glass as Alex sits on the coffee table in front of the couch. “What do you want to talk about?”   
  
“I’m just - I’m so glad he found you, Alex,” Laura says, definitely drunk. Alex smiles, a little amused by her sister-in-law’s behaviour. “Ever since he’s been married to you - ever since you guys dated - I could just  _ feel _ it, you know? That you two were meant for each other. And I’m just so - ” she cuts off, tearing up a little.   
  
“Oh honey, why are you crying?” Alex asks, even more amused as she pats Laura’s back soothingly.    
  
“I’m so  _ happy _ for you two, Alex. You love each other so much. Everyone can see that. And it’s so - so beautiful, watching you two together. You guys are so sweet together.” Laura slurs, taking another sip of her wine.    
  
Alex takes the glass out of her hand as Laura takes another sip. “Right, you’ve had enough of that tonight.”   
  
“The birthday girl can do what she wants, Alex.” Laura says sweetly, lunging for the glass again. Alex sighs and hands her the glass again, but she immediately regrets it when Laura pours more wine in the still half full glass. “I’m being serious. I may be a little tipsy now, but - ”   
  
“You’re drunk.” Alex states simply.   
  
“ _ Tipsy _ .” Laura insists. “But I know what I’m talking about. You and - and Matt, I don’t think he could find someone else who’s as perfect for him as you are.”   
  
Alex swallows her reply, her eyes casting downwards to avoid the sweet look on Laura’s face as she talks about how much she and Matt belong together. She likes Laura, genuinely likes her, and she doesn’t want to taint her opinions of her brother.   
  
“And I just know - I  _ know _ \- that you’ll love each other for the rest of your lives. I know it. Matt has never - he’s never looked at like he looks at you. He’s so smitten, even after a few years - and maybe that will wear off, maybe it won’t - but what I’m saying is that he’s just so, so in love with you, Alex. And I think you are too, with him.” Laura says.   
  
“I am.” Alex says quietly, swallowing a little as she takes a sip of her wine. “I am so, so in love with him. But to be honest, Laura, we haven’t really been on good terms lately. He’s been so busy and I’m too scared to talk to him about anything, and now everything’s just - it’s complicated, you know?”   
  
Alex looks up at Laura again, but she sees that Laura has fallen asleep, her mouth wide open and slumped on the couch. Alex smiles fondly and covers her with the throw so that at least she won’t be cold when she wakes up with a killer hangover in the morning.    
  
“Alex, there you are! Ready to go?” Matt says, entering the room with both of their coats hanging over his arm. He spots his sister under the throw and smiles, amused. “Finally passed out, huh?”   
  
“Mmhmm,” Alex says, getting up. “And you have perfect timing. I was just about to find you.”   
  
“Great! Let’s get out of here,” Matt says eagerly, taking her hand and leading her out.   
  
In the car, Matt teases her about cheating during the drinking game the entire drive, and Alex mock glares at him. She really would be angry if he didn’t look so damn attractive in that ridiculous sweater.   
  
But throughout the entire drive, she also hears Laura’s voice over and over again in her head, telling her how happy she makes Matt and how much he loves her. She wishes she could tell that voice to shut up long enough to clear her thoughts, but the combination of the voice and how good Matt looks right now, she can feel herself giving in.    
  
“Okay, well, you would cheat too since, you know, we’re  _ working _ tomorrow.” Alex says.   
  
“Don’t turn this on me, Kingston, you were the one who cheated.” He says smugly, as they arrive back at the hotel.    
  
They get out of the car and continue bickering all the way to the elevator, attracting dirty looks from other hotel guests and some of the staff.    
  
“Oh, shut up,” she says, as the elevator doors slide open in front of them and they both step inside. “Don’t go acting like you’ve never cheated on a game before, Matthew.”   
  
“Not that you can prove,” he says, smiling cockily and adopting the exact same pose he’d done at Laura’s, during the drinking game.   
  
Alex swallows a little, looking away as she feels her face turn red. She clenches her fists together and shuts her eyes tightly because this is a  _ terrible _ time to be turned on by Matt.   
  
“Alex?” He asks, concerned. “Are you okay?”   
  
She avoids looking up at him and -  _ this is exactly why you were avoiding eye contact, you idiot. _ His hazel eyes filled with concern and worry and love. And though those emotions are in no way out of the ordinary, today it is. It feels different.  _ She _ feels different.   
  
She takes a step forward in the small elevator. “No, I’m not.” Her eyes travel down the sweater and she feels herself reaching out for it, fisting the material in her hands and pulling him down towards her. “I want you.”   
  
Their lips meet.   
  
*   
  
She wakes up in her hotel room, stark naked. The smell of sex is still lingering in the air and her eyes widens in horror as her heart starts to race. Surely she hadn’t been that drunk to take a stranger into her bed yesterday?   
  
She gasps as she throws the sheets of the bed in a panic, eyes widening even further when she sees her husband’s naked back towards her. Part of her feels relieved that it hadn’t been someone else; the other part of her wants to beat herself up for letting this happen. How could she have been so stupid?   
  
The events of the previous night comes to her in a blurry rush: frantically kissing in the elevator; stumbling to the hotel room, lips still connected; Matt’s warm hands ripping off her panties as her head thumps back against the door, his own head disappearing under the skirt of her dress.    
  
She swallows as she looks at Matt’s peaceful figure. Last night hadn’t been completely alcohol-driven, if she was being honest. She’d been missing him for quite some time already and last night was a result of all that buildup. The decision to sleep with him hadn’t just come out of the blue.   
  
The question remains: was it the right decision?   
  
She tenses as a knock on the door sounds, shaking Matt awake gently. However, as she looks around the room she notices the suitcase sitting in the corner isn’t hers, and the pack of condoms on the nightstand  _ certainly _ does not belong to her.    
  
“Matty! Did you forget that you asked to rehearse our scene together?” Rosalyn’s voice calls out.    
  
Alex tenses up even further. She gets out of bed and ignores the blast of cold air on her body as she searches for her clothing because last night definitely was  _ not _ the right decision at all.   
  
Matt groans as he wakes up, blinking blearily. “Alex? What are you doing?”   
  
She swallows, throwing her dress over her head. Her knickers are ripped beyond repair but she takes them anyway, holding them and her bra tightly in one hand. “I’m leaving.”   
  
“What? Why?” Matt asks, sitting up immediately and frowning at her.    
  
“Because Rosalyn is here,  _ Matty _ ,” she says, jerking her head towards the persistent knocks on the door.    
  
“Okay, but Alex,” he says quickly, putting on his boxers and following after her as she rushes to the door. “We’ll talk later, right?”   
  
“I think we have to,” she says quietly, wrenching open the door and leaving the room without greeting Rosalyn.   
  
“Oof,” Rosalyn says, eyes following Alex. “Someone’s got the case of the hangover blues. You look awful, Alex.”   
  
Alex’s hotel room door slams shut.   
  
Rosalyn turns to Matt. “Bad timing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a few chapters left now. please leave a kudos and comment if you can! <3


	10. once upon a time we had it all; somewhere down the line we went and lost it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Only You by Little Mix ft Cheat Codes

For the rest of the day, Alex’s heart clenches tightly in her chest. It feels suffocating, feels like she can’t breathe even if she tried her hardest, and she knows why - it’s time. She has to let Matt go, for good now.    
  
It’s selfish for her to hold onto him for this long. It’s not fair to him, when he could be happier with someone else. It’s not fair for her, to keep hurting herself with delusions that maybe, this marriage will work. It isn’t working. It hasn’t been for a long time now.    
  
She should’ve known better than to sleep with him last night. She should’ve known better than to give him - than to give herself - hope. She should’ve known it the moment their lips met, the moment she lost all her senses - but as much as she tries, she can’t regret saying goodbye to him one last time. Matt might not have been her longest romance, but she had certainly given every single piece of her, damaged and whole, to him. It hurts to take it back.   
  
She knows it’s time. She knows from the moment Rosalyn had knocked on his door in the morning that she can’t do it anymore. She can’t pretend she doesn’t know how this will end up - it ends how it always does, how it’s been for her since the start - it ends with her heart in pieces, with her alone again.    
  
No matter what Matt says, she knows that someone else - maybe Rosalyn, maybe not - could make him a thousand times happier than he is with her. She knows that someone else could give him things that she would never be able to, that can offer him a better life than just being married to an aging actress with a teenage daughter. She knows this, finally forced herself to fully accept this fact, and so it’s time to let go.   
  
At the end of the day, Alex approaches Matt’s trailer. She steels herself and takes a deep breath before knocking, and she almost backs out of it when Matt’s voice calls out for her to come in.    
  
She lets herself into the trailer, but she doesn’t stray in further. She stays by the door, looking at Matt, who’s reviewing the script they just got.    
  
He looks up and smiles instantly, making Alex’s heart lurch in her chest. “Alex, just who I wanted to see. Sit down with me.”   
  
“No, I can’t.” She says, shaking her head. “I need to tell you something, and I’m not - I can’t stay long.”   
  
“Okay,” he says, putting the script away. He sighs and stands, too. “Is this about last night? Because I was hoping to- ”   
  
“Last night was a mistake,” Alex blurts, and the stricken look on Matt’s face almost makes her take it back but she can’t do it anymore. She can’t be Matt’s back-up plan.    
  
“What? N-no, it wasn’t, it was - ” he stutters, looking at her desperately. She shuts her eyes.    
  
“It was a mistake,” she says again quietly, firmly, as Matt looks down at his feet. She swallows harshly and says, even more quietly, “It won’t happen again. It can’t happen again.”   
  
“But Alex, please,” he whispers, his breath shaky. He’s one the verge of tears and it makes the pain in her heart triple and causes her eyes to fill with water, too. “Please, don’t do this. Last night was - it was everything, Alex, please don’t.”   
  
Alex shakes her head, swallowing back sobs and wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m sorry,” she breathes shakily.   
  
“Alex, tell me - tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads desperately. “Tell me, please, sweetheart. I’ll fix it.”   
  
“It’s us,” she whispers, a tear finally dropping down her cheek. “We’re wrong, Matt, and it’s time to face it.”   
  
“No,” he shakes his head stubbornly. “No, we’re not. Last night was proof of that.”   
  
“Last night was a mistake, Matt.” She says again, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, but it’s time. I can’t keep doing this, I just - I can’t.”   
  
“I love you,” he says desperately, as if hoping that that will somehow change her mind. He reaches for her and tugs her close, holding her tightly. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”   
  
Alex lets out a sob, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Sometimes, that isn’t enough.”   
  
“No, please,” he begs weakly, pushing his forehead into hers. “Please, Alex, please.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” she apologises again. She reaches for his face and cups his cheek gently, wiping his tears away. “I’m so sorry. But you’ll understand soon enough, I promise.”   
  
She leans up and presses her lips to his gently, lingering for a few moments before she pulls away.    
  
“I will always love you, Kingston. Always.” He says sadly, tears still streaming down his face.   
  
She opens her mouth, but she can’t bring herself to say it back. Maybe if she doesn’t, there’s a chance that she’ll be able to stop loving him. “I’m so, so sorry, Matthew.”   
  
*   
  
She wipes her tears across her face as she walks back to her trailer. That was one of the hardest things she’s ever done - letting him go a second time. But it’s what’s best for both of them. It’s the only way she’ll be able to pick up the pieces and continue on.   
  
She leans back on the armchair in her trailer, sighing deeply and trying desperately to dry her tears. She’s still so in love with him - she hadn’t lied to Laura at all last night - but she can’t continue living like this. It hurts too much. And if there’s one thing she’s learnt in life, it’s that prolonged pain and heartache has no place in a happy, healthy relationship.   
  
A knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts and she sniffles, wiping her tears hurriedly as she calls out, “Matthew, I do not want to see you right now.”   
  
“Actually, Alex, it’s Rosalyn,” she says, perfectly polite. “May I come in for a moment? I’d like to speak to you.”   
  
Alex’s eyebrows rise high on her forehead as she wonders what Rosalyn would possibly have to say to her. Still, she’s never been outwardly hostile towards the girl and she sees no reason to start now, especially since she’s ended things with Matt.    
  
Alex opens the door for Rosalyn and gestures towards the sofa as she sits back down on her armchair.   
  
“Oh, no.” Rosalyn declines with a laugh. “I’d, uh, very much like to  _ look down _ when I say what I have to.”   
  
Alex raises an eyebrow and almost lets out a laugh at Rosalyn’s prissy behaviour. This whole confrontation is starting off a little absurdly and ridiculously - and what’s funnier is that Rosalyn actually genuinely believes that she’s intimidating.   
  
“Go on then,” Alex says, smiling politely and gesturing to the trailer. “The floor is yours.”   
  
“I’ll have to admit,” Rosalyn starts, nodding in acknowledgement of Alex. “You’ve got him on a pretty tight leash. It’s taking longer than usual for Matt, but everyone comes around eventually. And he most certainly will, I promise you that, Ms Kingston.”   
  
Alex says nothing as Rosalyn paces the trailer, examining everything with a twisted smile that does quite remarkable things to that beautiful face. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the conversation that’s about to take place because she can’t quite believe that she’s well into her fifties and she’s still dealing with this high school mean girls drama.   
  
“He’s already starting to crack,” she continues, walking idly and picking up assortments before setting them down again with a sneer. “He’s started crying to me about how  _ disconnected _ you two are lately. He’s worried that he’s losing you.” She smirks a little wider at that, eyes flashing as they meet Alex’s. “Soon he’ll realise that he isn’t really losing much.”   
  
Alex scoffs, shaking her head. “Is this really all you came here to do? To taunt me about wanting to sleep with my husband?”   
  
Rosalyn smiles widely. “He won’t be able to resist me. No man ever does.”   
  
“Hasn’t he been resisting you for many months now?” Alex points out, a mock frown on her face as she crosses her legs.    
  
“I like a challenge,” Rosalyn says, unbothered. “The result is always  _ much _ more satisfying.”   
  
“Right. And that’s all you want him for, a shag?” Alex asks, resisting the urge to scoff again. “Not even a relationship.”   
  
“I don’t do relationships.” Rosalyn says carelessly. “What’s the point of them if they always end in pain?”   
  
“So because you don’t  _ do _ relationships, you ruin others’?” Alex says, disdain and disgust evident in her voice. As she tilts her head up at the girl she can’t decide if she hates her or feels sorry for her. Clearly she has some undealt with issues.    
  
“Matt deserves better. You know he does.” Rosalyn steps closer, looking down at Alex. “That’s why you left, isn’t it? And I thought you couldn’t be more pathetic.”   
  
“So give him what he deserves, then.” Alex says, sitting back in her chair. Twenty years ago, those words would’ve hurt like hell no matter who said them, but now Alex knows better than to base her self worth off of the words coming out of Rosalyn Connor’s mouth. “You know you can do it, Rosalyn. Give it to him.”   
  
“Don’t you worry about that, Alex. I’ll give him exactly what he deserves.” She says, still smiling cockily. “I’ll give him the chance to get rid of you.” She walks to the door slowly, turning back with her hand on the handle. “You never should’ve tried to keep him,  _ darling _ . You could’ve spared yourself the pain if you’d just left in LA.” She says, looking Alex up and down. “You don’t stand a chance against me.”   
  
She opens the door to leave, but Alex’s voice stops her in her tracks.    
  
“Why aren’t you already in his bed, then?” Alex asks, standing up and walking over to Rosalyn. She folds her arms as she eyes the younger woman, and even though the petty side of her would love for Rosalyn to eat her words, the other, more rational side of her just wants Matt to be free of this monster’s clutches. “You wasted your time and energy coming here. I’ve already ended things with Matt. You’re free to shag him as much as you want.” Alex tells her, shrugging nonchalantly. “If he wants you too.”   
  
Rosalyn’s sneer widens as she leans in. “He will.” She walks out, and just before the door closes behind her Alex hears her voice again. “They always do.”

*

When Alex approaches Matt's hotel door, it's with a heavy reluctance unlike anything she's ever felt before. After a particularly difficult call to her lawyer, who agreed to draw up divorce papers quickly, she spent the day in a cloud of hazy sadness, floating in and out of consciousness. 

Nothing seems real. Not now that her marriage is definitively over. 

She looks at the door number in front of her, standing stock still. The hallway is empty and she finds it oddly comforting that she wasn't put in the same floors as her other co-stars. She wouldn't want them to wander out of their rooms and see her like this, standing ghost-like outside her husband's hotel room. 

Before she can stop herself, she lifts her hand and knocks three times. 

Instantly regretting it, she prays that he's out and about somewhere - perhaps with Rosalyn or other friends he has - drinking and dancing now that he's single and free to do as he pleases. 

But he opens the door with red rimmed eyes and tousled hair. She should've known - he never does seem to do what she wants him to these days. 

"Alex," he says, shock in his features. "I -" 

He glances over his shoulder nervously but Alex ignores him, staring at his feet instead. 

"I called Grace," she tells his feet, refusing to look at him lest she burst into tears. "She's helping me draw up papers - she told me to warn you about it."

"Papers?" he repeats blankly. 

She swallows, and against her better judgement, looks up at him. 

"Divorce papers." she tells him. 

" _ Div _ \- I - Alex, wait," he says, eyes widening in alarm as he grabs her arm. The motion makes his face hit the light and she can see fresh tear tracks down his cheeks. "Alex."

"I'm not asking for anything," she says quickly, feeling emotions build up inside her. If she doesn't get through this quickly, she'll fully break down in front of him. "I don't want anything, Matt. I just - I don't want you to be surprised when you get the papers."

"Alex," he whispers, tears in his eyes and his voice choking up. "Alex, you said you'd give me a month to make this better - it's only been two weeks -"

"I can't," she shakes her head, tearing up as well. "I can't handle another  _ day  _ of feeling like this, Matt, I just -"

He stares at her long and hard, tears filling his eyes until they fall. He sniffles, nodding as he wipes his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I swear I never meant to hurt you. All - all I ever wanted was for us to be happy together."

"I know," she whispers back, her voice hoarse. "Me too."

She swallows, staring up at him again. Her husband is beautiful - high cheekbones and dark eyes, straight nose and soft lips. He'll be fine. He'll find someone who deserves him. 

"Matty, who's there?" calls a familiar voice from inside his room, and Alex's eyes widens as she looks at him. 

"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt -" she starts, but he cuts her off immediately. 

"No, I'm glad you came." Another tear falls and he wipes it away hurriedly. He doesn't answer Rosalyn's call. "She's helping me. I - I've been talking to her. You know, about us."

Recalling Rosalyn's words to her just a few hours ago, Alex nods. 

He smiles tremulously. It's a feeble attempt at bravery and it makes her heart break even further. 

"I have to figure out what to do without you," he says, his voice shaking slightly. He looks down at himself and sniffles, shrugging. "I don't quite know where to start."

"You'll be fine, darling." she says, patting him on the arm. "You're fantastic."

"I love you, Alex." he says, reaching for her hand on his arm and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You have been - you've been the absolute best of me. And I will love you for the rest of my life."

"Matt," she whispers, her own voice shaking now. Her hand trembles as she pulls it back from his lips and wipes the tears falling quickly. "Thank you. I wouldn't change these last few years for anything." 

"Me too."

"Matty?" Rosalyn calls another time. 

"Bye, Matt." she says. She turns abruptly and leaves, ignoring Matt's voice calling out her name. She doesn't want Rosalyn to see her like this. 

She doesn't want Rosalyn to think she's won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave kudos and comments me happy :)


	11. even if it's pretend, cry for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost at the end!! 
> 
> chapter title from the english translation of TWICE's Cry For Me

He sneaks into the makeup trailer twenty minutes before Alex is due to get there. He glances at the flowers in his hands - orchids, Alex’s favourites - and waits nervously for Alex to arrive.    
  
He shuts his eyes against the pounding in his head. He hadn’t slept at all yesterday. After watching Alex leave, after fighting as much as he could - he doesn’t know what to do anymore. She’d seemed pretty firm with her decision and he has no idea how else to change her mind.   
  
He’d spent all night tossing and turning, coming to terms with the fact that his marriage with Alex is over. His life with Alex is over, no matter how much he doesn’t want it to be. She’d made her decision.    
  
He doesn’t know what happened yesterday - he doesn’t know what will happen to them now. All he knows is that he loves her, with everything, and now that she’s decided that she doesn’t want him anymore, he’ll respect her decision, just like he promised he would. Even if it breaks his heart, all he wants is for her to be happy. And if that means living without her in his life anymore, then he’ll just have to accept it.    
  
He waits for a total of five minutes before he hears the door open quietly, and he sits up, a small smile on his face as he expects to be greeted with golden curls and a sultry voice but instead in Rosalyn marches, in a short skirt and a crop top, high heels covering her feet. He smiles politely as she enters and Rosalyn’s eyes brightens in surprise to see him there.   
  
“Oh, hello Matty!” she greets cheerfully, plopping down on the couch next to him.   
  
“Hello,” he says, a little disappointed to see Rosalyn when he’d been expecting Alex - but still, he doesn’t want to be rude, so he tries to make polite conversation with his friend. “Early call time?”   
  
“Oh yeah,” the girl huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face in annoyance. “Only got about three hours of sleep but hey, a girl’s gotta get money somehow right?” She turns a watchful eye onto him, looking him up and down. “What are  _ you _ doing here this early, anyway? Are you even filming today?”   
  
“Ahh,” says Matt awkwardly, averting his eyes. “I’m... meeting someone here. A personal thing, you know - not for work.”   
  
“Oh?” Rosalyn asks, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at him. She crosses one leg over the other and leans an elbow down on her knee, tucking her chin in her hand and smiling innocently at him. “Well, do share.”   
  
“Er - I’m not sure you’d be interested.” Matt says honestly, placing the orchids on the table in front of them.   
  
“I assure you, Mr Smith,” his name rolls off her tongue in a sensual way and he can’t help but have alarm bells ringing in his head as she turns predatory eyes on him, looking him over in a more obvious manner as a smirk crosses her face. “I am  _ very _ interested in any  _ personal _ details you might like to share with me.”   
  
“Um, I uh - ” he stutters, because suddenly the look in her eyes is not feigned interest but more seduction - and all he can think of is if Alex arrives soon and sees them this way she might get the wrong idea. “Listen Rosalyn, I’m married and I -”   
  
“Alex?” she scoffs. She places her hand on his knee and smiles. “I’ve always thought you deserved better, Matt - half the world thinks so too.” She leans in closer, a hand on his chest even as he scrambles backwards, her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. “Besides, she doesn’t have to know anything - I’m quite good with keeping things inside my mouth.” She smirks, her eyes flicking downwards to his trousers. “Do you want to test it out? I’m sure we can think of something -”   
  
“Listen, Rosalyn,” he says firmly, getting off the couch and turning to face her, ignoring the shock on her face as he shakes her hand off. “I’m not interested, alright?”   
  
“I can change that,” she stands as well, advancing on him and clearly not intent on giving up. She licks her lips and runs a hand through her thick hair, smiling prettily up at him. “If you would just give me the chance, Matt - I could satisfy you in ways you’ve never known before -”   
  
He snorts, thinking about all the times Alex has made their bedtime routine special and fun, just for him. “I highly doubt that.”   
  
Her eyes grow dark and she scoffs again. “Well, I suppose if you married Alex Kingston then you wouldn’t know anything about  _ real _ satisfaction.” His eyes narrow at her but she doesn’t notice, smiling again and reaching out to place her palms on his shoulders. “Besides, people talk, Matt - and I  _ know _ how much trouble Alex has been giving you.” She steps closer and leans in to whisper in his ear. “You can’t have been satisfied lately, have you? I can help with that, Matt.” She drops her voice, making it low and throaty. “I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even  _ think _ about Alex when I have my mouth over your -”   
  
“Stop!” he shouts, pushing her away and placing some distance between them. He’s  _ really _ angry now, beyond that - he’s  _ livid _ , and if Alex comes in and catches them this way he’s  _ never _ going to forgive her or himself. “You don’t have the right to talk about my relationship with my wife like that, or at all. I don’t know what you’ve heard about us and frankly, I don’t give a damn. But don’t expect me to drop my pants just because we haven’t been on good terms lately -”   
  
“And I’m telling you that you don’t  _ need _ to be on good terms with Alex at all,” she says, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “You don’t really think she’ll  _ ever _ be able to make you happy with the way she’s running away from all of this -”   
  
“She will, and she  _ does _ .” Matt snaps, his eyes flashing because Rosalyn has inadvertently hit the nail right on the head - the root of all their marital problems, stemming from Alex’s insecurity and his inability to manage his time at work and at home. “And right now, I don’t care about anything else.”   
  
“Oh, she does, does she?” Rosalyn’s nostrils flare with annoyance as she glares at him. “And what do you think  _ she’ll _ say when she finds out you’ve been trying to get into my pants?”   
  
“What?”   
  
“I’m just saying,” she smiles delicately, baring her teeth. “We’ve been in here for more than twenty minutes, Matt. So many things could’ve happened - if I just let it slip out that we fucked on that couch over there do you think there’s any chance that she’ll  _ ever _ let you back into her bed again?”   
  
“What the hell are you doing, Rosalyn?” He asks dangerously, his eyes dark and his voice low with anger as he turns to her. “Why are you so fucking determined to ruin my marriage? Ever since you got here you’ve been trying to cause trouble between me and Alex -”   
  
“I’ve been  _ trying _ since we worked together in LA,” she rolls her eyes again, “But you were too bloody  _ blind _ to see that I was  _ right _ in front of you - even when I sat on your lap in fucking nothing but a corset, stockings and heels - you went home without me. You went home, and you fucked your wife, didn’t you?” She smirks up at him. “Were you thinking of me?”   
  
Matt raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’ve never had to think of anyone other than Alex while she was fucking me.”   
  
Rosalyn purses her lips and scowls, taking in a deep breath before she continues, a seductive smile painting her lips as she puckers them and says lightly, “I can change that.”   
  
“No thanks. I’m perfectly happy thinking about my  _ wife _ .” Matt says coldly.   
  
She makes a noise of frustration at the back of her throat. “Fine then. Guess I’ll just have to have a word with the girls in makeup then. What do you think I should tell them?” She turns to the couch and tilts her head. “Well, I suppose I  _ could _ say that I knelt down and gave you a blowjob but that really isn’t my style - no. What about, I showed up with you already so wound up tight and I just had to help out a friend.” She flashes a smile at him. “So I pulled up my skirt and gave you the best ride of your life.”   
  
“You’re fucking -” he cuts himself off before he can finish the sentence, too aware of the consequences if Rosalyn manages to claim verbal assault. He’s so dumbfounded, because for the longest time Rosalyn had been his  _ friend _ , someone to laugh and joke with, and he hadn’t ever suspected that she’d wanted more from him. And now she’s threatening him, saying things he hadn’t ever thought would ever have left her mouth, and he feels confused and betrayed and just downright angry because he’s been so bloody  _ blind _ if she’s been trying to sleep with him since LA - he prays to God that Alex had never noticed her intentions. “You know what, you can say whatever the hell you want. Run your mouth. Do your worst. See if Alex - or anyone, really - believes you.”   
  
“Oh?” Rosalyn says, clicking her tongue. “You sound so confident, Mr Smith - do you really expect her not to believe me? The woman who’s been cheated on before? The woman who doesn’t have faith that you’ll stay with her anyway?” She tilts her head to the side, her smirk widening as her eyes flashes dangerously. “After everything she’s been through, we might as well just - get it over with, don’t you think? I’m right here, Matt. Available to you. I can make all your wildest fantasies come true, right here, right now - I’ll fuck every memory of Alex Kingston out of your head and you won’t have to follow her around like a pathetic little puppy, hoping for her to take you back -”   
  
“I don’t need her to take me back.” He snaps, though he knows that if Alex doesn’t there would be no way in hell he could ever recover from this. “Even if she begs and pleads with me to sign those papers - I don’t care. She might not want me anymore but don’t you think for one  _ moment _ that it would mean that I’m moving on to someone else. She is  _ it _ for me, do you understand? No one can ever -”   
  
“Oh this is pathetic,” she spits, unimpressed. She rolls her eyes once again and heads for the door. “Honestly, I expected more from you, Matt. When I first met you, all I heard about was how eager every girl that passed by your trailer was to sleep with you - to have just one night with Matt Smith. One of the girls even said she was successful - does Alex know about that? Well, even if she doesn’t, I think someone will just - hear it through the grapevine, yes? What do you think about that, Mr Smith?”   
  
“You are raving.” He says, his voice full of disdain as he eyes her from the end of the room.   
  
She smirks, lifting one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.” She places her hand on the doorknob and turns back to look at him again. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Matthew.”   
  
She smears her lipstick and pulls the neckline of her blouse lower before ruffling a hand through her hair and making it look tousled, as if someone else had been grabbing onto it.

  
“Toodles,” she says, with a flash of her too bright smile and a wave of her manicured nails, she disappears out the door.   
  
He stares after her, every nerve tested as he shuts his eyes and forces himself not to panic - god, Rosalyn is really one of a fucking kind - delusional and determined. A dangerous combination, and she seems to be fixated on him. He sighs, running a tired hand over his face as he flops back down onto the couch before he checks the time and - Alex is fifteen minutes late for their meeting.   
  
He shoots her a quick text, asking her where she is - he’s halfway through typing the message when her voice floats through the closed door, loud and clear.   
  
“Now, I’ll appreciate it if you can get out of my fucking sight, Ms Connor.” Alex’s voice is tight and hard and Matt rushes to his feet, pulling open the door just in time to see Rosalyn stalking away angrily and Alex watching her, lips pursed and nostrils flared.    
  
“Alex?” He asks tentatively, still not sure what exactly had been going on there - if she’s heard just a portion of their conversation it wouldn’t bode well for him, and he mentally curses Rosalyn if this situation causes another drift between him and Alex - if there ever was a chance for reconciliation with Alex then it might be over now.    
  
She turns, and though her shoulders and posture is still rigid with the tension in her frame, her eyes softens and she unpurses her lips, letting a small smile spread as her eyes meet his. He smiles back, very relieved.   
  
“Hello,” she says softly. His eyes dart to Rosalyn’s retreating back and back to Alex’s eyes, a clear question in his gaze. “It was nothing. What are you doing here?”   
  
“I was hoping to see you,” he says hopefully, a small smile on his face.   
  
She hesitates for a fraction of a second, before she swallows a little and nods. “Let’s go inside.”   
  
He holds the door open for her, letting her walk past him into hair and makeup first, and when she sees the orchids on the coffee table she smiles and picks them up, bringing the bouquet to her nose and inhaling their scent deeply.   
  
“My favourite,” she whispers, smiling at him before setting the flowers down again and settling on the sofa. “Thank you, Matt.”   
  
“No problem,” he smiles, glad to have made her happy before he scratches his cheek awkwardly and begins the conversation that he’s not sure he wants to have. “So you uh - you heard that, did you?”   
  
She smiles wryly. “I heard enough.”   
  
“Did you?” He asks, moving to sit beside her. “Because I swear, Alex, I didn’t even  _ think _ about taking her up on her offer, I just -”   
  
“I know, Matt.” She soothes, her hands finding his and squeezing gently as she smiles, even though he can’t help but see how the sadness still lingers in her eyes, how they still shine with a little apprehension and hurt when she looks at him. “But could you just - just tell me, honestly.” She swallows the lump in her throat and shuts her eyes tightly, facing the other way so she won’t be able to see how he reacts to her question. “Don’t lie to me, okay? Was there - when you were filming, all those long hours at work - and nights spent on set in your trailer - I mean, I - I don’t blame you but just - just tell me the truth, okay?”   
  
“Alex?” he asks, a little alarmed at the sound of tears in her voice and the way her hands are shaking as she holds onto him tightly. “What is it?”   
  
“Was there - did you...” she trails off, before shaking her head and mustering up the courage to force out the rest of the question, looking down at their joint hands all the while. “Was there ever anyone else? I mean, did you ever -”   
  
“Alex,” he breathes, gripping her hands tightly in his. He’s shaking his head frantically but she isn’t looking at him - tears are starting to trail down her cheeks and she shuts her eyes tightly, waiting for the confirmation, waiting for him to admit that she hadn’t been enough.    
  
“Just tell me the truth, Matthew,  _ please _ .” she whispers, her voice cracking on the last word. “Was she - was she right? Did you -”   
  
“ _ No _ .” He forgets everything for a moment, forgets they aren’t together anymore. All he knows is that he needs to convince her that he’s never been unfaithful to her; that he’s never even thought about it. He hands and places them on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks gently and wiping away her tears as he scoots over closer to her to place small kisses on her lips. She doesn’t even try to fight him off. “I wouldn’t ever do that to you, Alex - I, I  _ swear _ , on my life that I didn’t touch anyone else, that I’ve never  _ wanted _ to touch anyone else since I’ve had you.”   
  
“I wouldn’t blame you, you know, if you did.” she manages, her words punctuated by sniffles and the kisses he’s still planting on her lips. “I would understand if it ever happened -”   
  
“It never happened. Not once, not ever. It will  _ never _ happen, Alex.” he whispers, his hands travelling down her sides and onto her hips, tugging her closer and closer until she’s practically sitting on his lap, her nose buried in his neck and staining his shirt with tears. “I love you so much and I swear I - not once. Not with anyone else, love, I promise.” He holds her tight against him, unwilling to ever part from her. “Please believe me.”   
  
“Yes,” she whispers against his skin. “I’m sorry I just - I had to know if she was -”   
  
“She wasn’t right. About anything.”   
  
She nods, pulling back slowly to wipe the tears from her eyes. He keeps her close to him, trailing his hands up and down her sides comfortingly and placing small kisses on her skin where he can reach.   
  
“I love you,” he says quietly, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder. He feels her hands trail up his back and into his hair, leaving a path of warmth as she combs her fingers through his hair gently. “So much, sweetheart - and I know you were scared about us but I would never do that to you, okay? I’m not - I’m not the same person as him - I’d never -”   
  
“I’m sorry,” she apologises, dropping a kiss to his head. “I couldn’t help myself. She said some - some things in here that I heard and I -”   
  
“She wasn’t right.” he repeats, turning his head to bury his face in her neck and inhale her scent deeply.    
  
She pauses, licking her lips hesitantly and loosening her grip on him. “There was... a time, a few months ago - the night of your cast party. I didn’t leave early because I was sick.” she says, watching his face carefully. He frowns, and she knows that he’s clearly trying to make the connection between the shift in topic. “I saw you and Rosalyn on the stage and I... it was like that, twenty years ago. With my first husband.”   
  
“What?” Matt pulls away, and she knows that he’s made the connection, because the disbelief in his voice is unmistakable. He searches over her face, his eyes moving frantically over every feature and every line. All he sees in her eyes is hurt and fear and betrayal, he sees how she’s bracing herself for his answer, and the only thought present in his mind is  _ oh no, oh no, ohno ohno ohno  _ because Alex really does think he’s capable of that and he’s never felt more of a failure as a husband than he does right now, in this moment. His eyes are wide as he asks, “You thought Rosalyn and I were having an affair?”   
  
“I thought it was a possibility,” she admits. She closes her eyes and immediately sees the stage and the pole, and Rosalyn and Matt, standing closer to each other, his eyes fixed on nothing else but  _ her _ , the look on his face hungry and lustful for someone else. “I thought that if you weren’t already together it wouldn’t be long before you realised that she was obviously attracted to you in that way and I couldn’t - I just -”   
  
“No -  _ no _ .” he shakes his head firmly, his heart pounding in his chest because if Alex doesn’t believe him - he shuts his eyes. He doesn’t allow the thought to finish because he can’t bear it - the mere thought that Alex could ever believe that he’d been unloyal to her and their marriage makes his stomach turn unpleasantly and his heart hurt with a kind of throbbing pain he’s never felt in his life. “I’ve never - she was a  _ friend _ , the first friend I made in LA and that’s all she ever was, Alex.” He cups her face in his hands and pulls her closer to him, his lips brushing hers. He thinks that after everything Rosalyn has said and done this morning, there’s no way in hell that she’ll ever be anything else than an inconvenience that they unfortunately have to work with, let alone a friend. He’s filled with a desperate need to explain and convince her as he whispers, “That’s all she’ll ever be, I swear. I can’t - Alex, I’ve never wanted anyone else for the last six years. Not a single person besides you, love.” He wipes the tears from her cheeks, his own falling fast from his eyes as he asks tearfully, “You do believe me, don’t you? Because I’ll prove it to you - I  _ swear _ I’ve never touched anyone else, not since I’ve had you.”   
  
“I believe you,” she whispers, because the look in his eyes when she admitted that she thought he’d been unfaithful to her, the disbelief and the hurt and how he rushed to comfort her tells her just how sincere he is. “I’m sorry.” she apologises again, her arms tightening around his shoulders as she rests her cheek against his.   
  
“No, don’t be,” he sounds a little choked, as if his throat is clogged with sobs he hasn’t yet released, and he presses his body even closer to hers. “I’m so, so sorry I was such a horrible husband that you believed it, but I - Alex, I promise that it’s never happened, and it never will, I swear it, love. That night you were talking about - that cast party - it was just some fun, we were re-enacting a scene from the movie, love, I never - it  _ never _ crossed my mind that you would think that way because I thought that we were okay - but clearly we weren’t and I - I’m just, so so  _ sorry _ , sweetheart. But I swear to you - I’ve never, I won’t ever do that to you. I, I don’t know how else to prove it to you -”   
  
She cuts him off with a kiss. They feel the tears on their cheeks but at this point he’s too relieved that she believes him to care about anything else, and he just lets every tear fall as he kisses her urgently, hopelessly, because he wants to tell her that he can’t love anybody but her, and she’s all he’ll ever want -  _ her _ , and not anybody else.    
  
When she pulls away he’s filled with the urgent need to keep her close so he sits up, winding his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck and placing soft little kisses onto all the skin he can reach, pressing his nose and breathing deeply because all he wants is to fill every single corner in his mind with her, her scent and her taste and the way she feels seated on his lap, her voice and her touch, her warmth and her love - he just wants her.   
  
After a few moments of hugging each other tightly, she seems to come back to herself. She realises what position they’re in and she scrambles to stand, getting out of his lap and clearing her throat awkwardly as she wipes at the tears in her eyes quickly. No matter what happened here a few minutes ago, the fact of the matter is they’re separated. It would do well for her to remember that before she says something she’ll regret. He follows suit, standing up too and fidgeting nervously.    
  
“Why are you here, Matt?” She asks softly, looking up at him.    
  
“I came to - to tell you that I -” he looks up at her again, but he can’t help the tears that flood his eyes as he tells her, “I respect your decision. I - I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work, but please know that I love you with everything.” He smiles sadly, swallowing his tears as he whispers, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Alex. And I’m so sorry.”   
  
Her lower lip trembles as she laces her fingers together and she breathes shakily, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, too.” She looks up at him, and she feels her whole body shaking with the force of trying not to cry but it doesn’t work, because tears fall anyway as she continues. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust that you loved me enough.”    
  
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her wedding ring, the diamond glistening in the light of the lamps above them. She fiddles with it for a while, and his mind echoes with their promises to love each other until their dying day. She holds it out to him.    
  
“This is yours,” she whispers, still looking down at the diamond.   
  
“I can’t take that,” he says softly, shaking his head. “I told you, Alex, no matter what happens, that will always be yours.”   
  
“I know, but I can’t -” she shuts her eyes, her grip on the ring making her knuckles white. “I can’t keep it, Matt, I can’t.”   
  
“Why not?”   
  
“Because I don’t want another reminder of what I lost,” she whispers, her body still shaking lightly. “I don’t need one, nor do I want one and I just -” she looks away, swallowing roughly and wiping more tears away from her cheeks as she continues. “I don’t want it, Matt. Please, just take it.”   
  
Her hand starts shaking and he takes the ring gently, clenching it tightly in his fist as if it’ll change her mind and bring her back to him. “Okay.” He says tearfully.    
  
He slips the ring carefully into his breast pocket and looks at her again, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She tries to smile, but her eyes are so full of tears and her lips are trembling too much for her to manage it. He closes the distance between them.   
  
“I’ll miss you, Matt,” she whispers, her eyes glassy as she looks up at him.    
  
“I’ll miss you too, Kingston.” He whispers back.    
  
He leans down and brushes his lips against hers, one last desperate kiss between husband and wife. He pulls back too soon, much too soon, but he pushes his forehead into hers.    
  
“I meant everything I said, you know,” he says softly, sadly. “Everything you heard - my conversation with Rosalyn, I wasn’t lying. I need you to know that.”   
  
She nods. “I know.” She sniffs and closes her eyes, sighing a little. She pulls away, out of his reach. “Goodbye, darling.”   
  
“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would love some comments 🥺🥺🥺


	12. my heart is beating for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t know how he gets through the rest of the day. He stares out the window and loses himself in his thoughts - it’s almost like the pain he feels is all too much that his brain shuts it out, ignores it, and finds a way to escape.
> 
> He’s cried every tear left in his body and he doesn’t know what else to do - how does he go about living a life without Alex? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know. It’s no way to live, he knows this, but he can’t bring himself to try and live a normal life when he’s just lost his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter! :) 
> 
> title from MAGO by Gfriend

He doesn’t know how he gets through the rest of the day. He stares out the window and loses himself in his thoughts - it’s almost like the pain he feels is all too much that his brain shuts it out, ignores it, and finds a way to escape.    
  
He’s cried every tear left in his body and he doesn’t know what else to do - how does he go about living a life without Alex? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know. It’s no way to live, he knows this, but he can’t bring himself to try and live a normal life when he’s just lost his wife.    
  
So he stares out the balcony of the hotel suite, for eight hours. He doesn’t eat or drink, doesn’t move from his spot, he just stares at the sun as it moves slowly down, and when the time finally comes to sleep, he slides the balcony door open and enters the bedroom.    
  
Her ring is on the nightstand, clear as day, the diamond still glinting as good as new. His eyes fill with tears again - he can’t help it now. He’s certain that he won’t be able to look at that ring without crying and yet he can’t seem to part with it - the only thing he has left of Alex.    
  
His heart hurts and his body aches and all he wants is to feel Alex close to him again, to touch and kiss and love her like he’s been trying to do for months, but he can’t now. He’s lost that privilege.    
  
He breathes deeply, letting the tears fall and not bothering to wipe them away as he pads across the room and climbs into bed, knowing fully that he won’t be sleeping tonight. Or for many nights, for that matter.    
  
He lays awake, and all he can think about is Alex. This isn’t new - in fact, Alex is all he’s been thinking about since before he got here - but this time, all he can think about is how happy Alex makes him. How he’ll never get to experience the joy of waking up next to her ever again. How he’ll never listen to her sultry voice whispering naughty things in his ear; how he won’t ever feel her warm touch or her soft lips or her calming scent - just  _ her _ . He’ll never have her again.   
  
He doesn’t know if it makes it better or worse that he’ll still have to work with her. He knows that eventually, he’ll do everything he can to keep her in his life - even as a friend. Even if that’s all he can get from Alex, then he’ll take it. He can’t imagine being without her, not after everything.   
  
A soft knock on his door jerks him out of his thoughts and he sits up, wondering if the person will go away if he doesn’t answer. But the knocks continue insistently, and he sighs tiredly as he rubs a hand over his face, padding quietly to the front door and opening it a crack.    
  
Alex Kingston stands in front of the door, her hands clasped together and fidgeting nervously.    
  
“Alex,” he says, so surprised that his mouth hangs open. She’s the last person he’d expect to see outside his hotel room tonight.   
  
“Can I - is it okay if I come in?” She asks hesitantly, biting her lip and not meeting his eyes.    
  
“Uhh - yeah, no, yeah - please come in,” he stutters, opening the door wider and letting her through.    
  
She enters slowly, wrapping her arms around herself as she turns around to face him. He gestures at the couch and she perches at the end of the cushion, facing him slightly.    
  
She doesn’t say anything for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she finally sighs and closes her eyes.    
  
“I can’t sleep,” she confesses quietly, looking down at her lap. “And I think it’s because I - I made a mistake.”   
  
He frowns, but doesn’t say anything. She clenches her fists together nervously, still not meeting his eyes as she continues, “I couldn’t concentrate at all today. All I could think about is you and - and not having you in my life. How much it would hurt not to see you every day, or hear you speak to me, or - or -”   
  
“I know,” he says softly, when she struggles to finish her sentence. She finally turns to him, surprise evident in her eyes as he continues, “I understand. I felt like that the entire day, too.”   
  
She nods once, meeting his eyes. “And I think it’s because I...” she trails off, swallowing tightly. “I still want you, Matt.” She confesses, much more softly. “I want you, but I’m so scared because we - Matt, I had to  _ leave _ before you even realised that anything was wrong with our marriage, and I -”   
  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers softly. “I can’t - I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t know you were feeling unwanted and I just - I focused on work when I should’ve been focusing on us -”   
  
“But it wasn’t all your fault,” she says, shaking her head. “I should’ve said something before, but everything - after everything that happened I thought you were falling out of love with me when I was so desperately still in love with you - it’s happened before.” She shuts her eyes and turns her head. “And the first time it happened, he left me - and I was broken. I - I survived that - but just  _ barely _ , Matt, and if it happened again, with you - I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it.” When she opens her eyes again they are filled with tears, and he curses his stupid self for being so blind and ignorant, for ever thinking that love would be easy just because he knew they were made for each other. “So I left before you could, and I was ready to let you go -”   
  
“Don’t.” he begs. “I don’t want you to let go of me -”   
  
“I couldn’t,” she says. “I couldn’t because just as I thought I’d be able to move on from you I saw your face on that table read and I - Matt, no one has ever  _ done _ that for me before - no one’s ever thought that I was worth coming after.” She’s crying now and her voice is shaky, her breath hitching as tears fall from her eyes.    
  
He shakes his head and says honestly, “It never crossed my mind not to come after you, Alex.” He takes her hands in his and presses kisses to both of them, his mouth brushing her skin as he whispers, “I couldn’t just let you go like that.”   
  
She manages a small smile before she continues, “And I heard from Daniel, afterwards - I called him. And he told me you turned down three big Hollywood offers to come to London and work in a small TV drama.”   
  
“I - I didn’t want them,” he says hurriedly, assuring her. The last thing he wants to do is let her think that she’d cost him his career. “I couldn’t work, not after you left.”    
  
“And that night - Laura’s birthday party - it wasn’t a mistake,” she whispers softly. He feels his heart lift a little as his eyes scan her face, not quite knowing what she’s telling him yet. “It wasn’t alcohol. I was - I was missing you and I wanted you.”   
  
“Then why did you -”   
  
“Because Rosalyn showed up the morning after, remember?” She reminds him. She looks down and sighs. “And all I could think about was the reason why I left, the reason why everything between us can’t work out. And I thought that if I let myself be with you again then I’d - I’d just end up twice as hurt when you choose Rosalyn.”   
  
“I’ve never seen Rosalyn as anything more than a friend, Alex.” He tells her, shaking his head adamantly.    
  
“I know that now.” She assures him, but she shrugs a little hopelessly as she says, “but I didn’t then. I thought it’d save me more pain if I just - just left. And I knew you’d never disrespect my decision because you’re - you’re  _ you _ , so I took the easy way out.” She shakes her head, staring down at the carpet. “But when I heard what you said to Rosalyn - she was offering herself, this beautiful woman right in front of you - and you told her that all you wanted was me.”   
  
“It’s true. I did want you,” he whispers softly, his smile sad as he continues. “I still do.”   
  
She stares at him with wide eyes and he stares right back, looking into her eyes as sincerely as he can. He loves her, he knows as much, and he isn’t ready to let go of her by a long shot - and by the sound of this conversation, she isn’t ready to let go of him, either.    
  
“I’m here.” she whispers, so softly and so, so timidly. She’s giving him a second chance, offering her heart to him again.    
  
“Are you - are you coming home?” he asks, his eyes wide with hope as he stares at her.    
  
“If that’s what you want.” she says, looking at him with a small smile and he almost laughs in disbelief because  _ how could he not want her? _ _   
_   
“Alex I -” but he doesn’t let himself finish, crashing his lips down to hers and kissing her happily, tears of joy streaming down his face as his mouth moves insistently over hers. “I love you  _ so _ bloody much.”   
  
“But, if we do this again,” she starts softly, and she sighs before turning back to him. “You can’t just - you can’t ignore me, Matthew. Please.”    
  
“I’m sorry,” he says again, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead into hers. “I - I don’t know what came over me but I guess I pulled away and - but it won’t happen again, Alex, I swear. I know better now, and I won’t let it happen again, love. I won’t give you any reason to leave again.” He sighs, his hands coming up to cup her face gently. Her own hand rises to cover one of his, pressing a small kiss into his palm as he leans in and nudges her nose with hers. “I love you so much, Alex. Always.”   
  
There’s a pause where she leans into his touch, nuzzling her nose into his palm as he closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of having her again - she’s coming  _ home _ , and it really hits him then. Part of him had been in denial when she said they were over, and now that she’s here - now that she’s in his arms again, he feels a sort of aching relief course through him. Everything had felt so much like a long nightmare that the reality of losing her just didn’t have enough time to truly sink in his bones until now. Until she agreed to be with him again. He feels this desperate need to be close to her, to never leave her side and never let her leave his.    
  
“I love you too.” she whispers finally, and he feels his heart soaring, feels like flying through the air and shouting to the heavens and thanking every single deity out there for giving him Alex, because the feeling he has when she says those three words will never rival anything else.    
  
He plants small kisses on her lips, breaking apart for a few moments to whisper ‘I love you’ against her mouth before capturing her lips again. Her hands are in his hair, a watery smile on her face as she climbs onto his lap and settles down with a leg on either side of his thighs.    
  
“Let me show you,” he whispers against her lips, hands travelling up and down her sides as if he can’t decide where best to put them. He wants her so, so much. “Let me show you how much I love you, Alex.”   
  
“Yes, please,” she sighs into his mouth, and the smile that spreads across his face as he turns them around and pushes her back onto the couch is so wide it brightens her vision.    
  
He takes his time divesting her of her clothes. He wants to savour every moment of this, of their first time together after their dreadful separation. Of course, there’d been that one night, after Laura’s birthday party. But that night had been fueled by lust and passion, a desperate need to touch and be touched. This time, it’ll be fueled by nothing but love - the desire to love her the way she deserves, the way he’s always wanted to love her. He wants to kiss every inch of her, worship every strip of skin he can find, memorise every moan and sigh and plea that falls off her lips as he touches her.    
  
He starts with her shirt, pulling it over her head and throwing it aside, revealing smooth, honey skin to his hungry eyes. He kisses her shoulders and her neck, teeth scraping gently over her collarbone as he moves lower and lower down to her chest. He sucks gently on the tops of her breasts and closes his eyes - this isn’t a dream. This is real, Alex is underneath him, wanton and moaning and so goddamn  _ beautiful _ and she wants him to make love to her.   
  
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, the same words from the first night they’d spent together. “Five years and you’re still so bloody perfect - I’m so fucking lucky, sweetheart. I love you so much.”   
  
He hears her whisper her love back into the air as he moves towards her stomach, his fingers reaching down to unbutton the jeans she’s wearing. She lifts her hips and he pulls the denim off of her, letting it tangle around her ankles as he mouths the skin above her pelvis. He toys with the band of her panties, groaning when he inhales deeply and her scent fills his nostrils.    
  
“I’ve missed you,” he says against her skin, fingers caressing her hips lightly. He looks up at her, meeting her eyes. He sees that her eyes are filled with tears and he nudges her nose against her inner thigh, kissing her there gently. “I’ve missed you so bloody much, Alex. I’ve missed touching you and kissing you and tasting you - just  _ everything _ about you, love.”   
  
“I’ve missed you too, darling. So much.” she breathes, reaching an arm out to stroke his hair out of his face. He makes to duck his head in between her thighs but she stops him, gripping his hair tightly and pulling him up. “I can’t, honey, I - I want to feel you inside me.”   
  
He nods, hooking his thumbs in her knickers and pulling them off completely with her jeans, leaving her legs bare to him. He slides his hand up her naked thighs, loving the feeling of her skin under her touch. He pushes himself up and covers her body with his, tickling her slightly as his hands travel up her sides lightly.   
  
He feels her hands on his trousers, stroking him lightly. He lets out a groan, another wave of emotion suddenly coming over him because if he’s missed anything more than touching her, it’s her touching him. Her small hands push themselves between their bodies as her fingers move over the bulge in his pants, and as he rocks his hips into her hands he knows that if she continues he won’t be able to satisfy her the way she wants.   
  
“Fuck,” he whispers, moving quickly off her and undoing the belt buckle on his trousers, pushing those and his boxers down in one hurried stroke. When he gets on the sofa again, he sees that she’s already removed her bra, and he groans thankfully as his mouth descends on one nipple.    
  
“Please,” she whimpers, her back arching towards him. “Please, honey, I need you so badly.”   
  
“Oh fuck,” he grips her thighs and wraps them around his hips, feeling her warm centre press against his cock. He slides into her in one smooth stroke, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as he enters her, watches how she throws her head back and her eyes roll back and her mouth drops open as he fills her. “I love you,” he whispers, as he begins to thrust.   
  
He braces his elbows on either side of her face, leaning down to place his lips against her ear and murmur words of love and encouragement in her ear. She moans and sighs and curses with each deep, slow thrust into her, loving the feeling of having him inside her after so long of going without him.   
  
“You are so beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear. “I love you so much - I will never let you forget that again, Alex. Ever.” He pulls back to lean his forehead against hers, his hips moving slowly against hers. He meets her tear-filled eyes, feeling his own burn as he tells her, “I will never stop loving you and I  _ promise _ you - I  _ swear _ that you - you’ll never feel unloved again. I swear it, sweetheart. I’ll do anything for you.”   
  
She feels the tears start to fall as he continues whispering to her. He makes promises and declarations and it fills her head and her heart, every crevice of her body until all she can feel is love. She’s missed her husband so much that it feels like she’s finally whole again, all the pain and the hurt and the heartache of the last months finally coming to an end, and she feels so  _ relieved _ she could just cry and cry and cry. So she does.   
  
She feels his lips on her cheeks, feels him trembling as he kisses her tears away and as she opens her eyes and finds that his eyes are wet too she lets out a quiet gasp. He smiles - that smile. The smile he wears when he’s so happy he just can’t hide it, so full of joy and content that he can’t help but show it.    
  
“You make me so happy, love,” he whispers, his voice breaking just slightly. “So damn happy.”   
  
“I love you,” she murmurs to him softly, her hand coming up to the side of his face, her thumb wiping his tears away. He shuts his eyes and turns his face towards her touch, his nose nudging the skin of her palm gently. “I love you so much, darling. Always.”   
  
He feels a strong, gripping feeling ripple through his chest as she says those words. It grips him so tight and fills him with so much love that he can’t help but tremble, can’t help the tears that build up even more at hearing his wife’s voice utter those words. He never wants to hear them come out of anyone else’s mouth but hers. He never wants to let her go again.   
  
She rocks her hips up to meet his, pressing her lips to the side of his face. She lets her eyes fall shut and just feels him moving inside her, sounds escaping her lips involuntarily as he hits that spot deep inside her over and over and over again. His own grunts and groans echo in her ears and it only serves to heighten the pleasure, and it isn’t long at all before she screams her release into the air, toes curling at his back and pulling him in deeper as she arches her back and throws her head back.   
  
He doesn’t stop thrusting into her, waiting for her orgasm to recede as he feels her muscles clench around him. Being inside her feels so good - she feels so good, and even though he tries, finally being within Alex after months of separation and being without her, he isn’t able to hold out very long, coming inside her after a few more deep thrusts in her clenching wet heat.   
  
He collapses onto her, sated and sweaty as he catches his breath - he isn’t done with her by a long shot, and as he rolls off her he can tell she isn’t done with him, either. She presses her face into his chest, kissing the hair there gently.    
  
“I love you,” she whispers into his skin.   
  
He looks down at her, her hair tousled and her skin glowing, and a satisfied and loving smile on her face as she looks up at him and he knows he can’t ever love anyone else but this amazing woman in front of him. His wife. And he tells her so.   
  
*   
  
“Can you promise me something?” he asks, a few hours later as they lay silently on the queen sized bed, stroking each other’s skin tenderly.    
  
“Hmm?” she hums.   
  
“Don’t leave me again.” he whispers. The words hang in the air and she doesn’t move, her hands freezing on his skin. He licks his lips and continues. “Please, because I don’t think I can - the next time, if there’s ever a next time, please,  _ please _ just talk to me first, okay?” he takes her hands in his and presses his lips to her knuckles. “Just promise that you won’t just -  _ leave _ , without giving me a chance or an explanation or a goodbye.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I tried to bring it up with you, but I couldn’t - and I needed to leave, Matt, I couldn’t have stayed and continued to be okay -”   
  
“I know,” he says. “I know, and I understand why you left now, but - but  _ God _ , Alex, coming home and finding a letter that says my wife has just left me - that hurt. That hurt so much - that week, when I was alone in our home not knowing if you’d ever come back - it was horrible and I can’t go through that again. So please, just - don’t ever leave me again.”   
  
“Don’t give me a reason to.” she looks up at him, her gaze boring into his. He looks straight into her eyes.   
  
“I won’t,” he promises. “I know better now and I’ll be better now. I promise you, Alex, I’ll do everything I can to be someone you deserve - and you’ll never want to leave. You’ll never  _ need _ to.”   
  
She doesn’t say anything for a while, her eyes tracing across her face as if she’s trying to detect how sincere he’s being, how much this promise means to him, how much  _ she _ means to him.   
  
“Okay.” she says finally, a small smile appearing on her face as she watches him raise his eyebrows in shock.   
  
“Okay?” he repeats, looking down at her seriously.   
  
“Okay.” she says again.   
  
“I love you so much, wife.” he whispers, and as the title slips from his lips, he suddenly remembers something and he nudges her aside to get out of bed.    
  
“Where are you going?” she asks, frowning as she watches him circle the bed to the nightstand. When holds out something silvery, shiny and small she knows exactly what it is, and she tilts her head to the side, her frown turning into a smile as she eyes the ring in his hand.   
  
He climbs onto the bed, kneeling down beside her and taking her hands, pulling her up into a seating position as well. The smile on his face is giddy and contagious, much like the one he wore on their wedding day - and as he takes her left hand in both of his and clears his throat, she knows exactly what he’s trying to do.   
  
“You are my entire world.” He says, and she shakes her head and almost laughs because of course her sap of a husband would use the exact same words he started his proposal with in this situation, too. “And I promise to always show you how much you mean to me, to never leave a single doubt in your mind about how much I love you. I will do everything and anything to be the man you deserve from now on and forever.” Tears build up in her eyes but she’s smiling so wide it can’t be mistaken for anything but happiness. “Please come home, love.”   
  
“Yes.” she breathes, and he surges forward, covering the huge smile on her face with his own.   
  
He slips the ring back on her finger again when they part. It feels just like coming home.


	13. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the epilogue!!!

“Honey, you  _ promised _ no presents.” Alex smiles, as he presents her with a small bag.   
  
Today had been absolutely magical. Matt had really gone overboard for their anniversary. She hasn’t felt so happy in so long, and she loves him so very much.    
  
Matt took her to a private carnival, where all their family and friends were gathered, and they spent the entire afternoon playing carnival games. They rode the ferris wheel with Salome, took photos in the photo booth and ate mountains of candy floss and corndogs. She can’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much with him.    
  
When the sun started going down, they moved the party to a restaurant downtown. They danced and they drank with their friends all around them, and they spent the entire night looking only at each other.   
  
They’d left the party shortly after midnight, walking hand in hand under the streetlights. It’s quiet, the only sound is the wind whipping their coats and the leaves crunching under their feet. Soon, they find themselves on a lonely bridge, looking out on a river.    
  
“It isn’t... new,” he admits, looking down a little and smiling sadly. “I was supposed to give you on our fifth anniversary, but - you know.”   
  
She takes a square velvet box out of the bag, opening it to reveal a necklace. The chain is made of tiny emeralds, glinting in the moonlight, and at the centre of the box there sits a locket. She takes the locket gently in her hands and opens it carefully, her eyes filling with tears when she sees a picture of her and Matt with Salome. On the other side, small letters are engraved into the metal, reading:  _ my family. _   
  
“Thank you,” she whispers, closing the locket and looking up at him tearfully. “It’s beautiful, Matt.”   
  
“Would you like to wear it now?” He asks. She nods.   
  
She lifts her hair as he moves behind her, ensuring the locket rests on her chest as he clasps the necklace around her neck carefully. He presses his lips to the back of her neck, making her giggle and bite her lip at the cold touch. He wraps his arms around her tightly.   
  
“I love you,” he whispers, not for the first time that day. Her head drops back against his chest. “I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t, Alex. Never again.”   
  
“I love you too, darling.” She whispers back.   
  
“Three months ago, my biggest fear was that we wouldn’t get to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” he says quietly. “I was so - so afraid that I’d actually lose you, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. And I did lose you, for those few days, and it felt - I felt like I couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard I tried. I don’t ever want to get that close to losing you, Alex. Ever again. I’ll do whatever I can, I promise that, I- ”   
  
“Those few days, after we- ” she cuts off, sighing heavily. “I put all my strength and energy into not crying or breaking down. And when I came to you that night it was because I couldn’t handle being without you. The moment I saw you I knew I couldn’t ever leave you and not come back.” She turns in his arms, looking up at him with tears in her eyes - for a different reason this time. So far, today has been full of nothing but happiness, and she doesn’t want to ruin it with a conversation about their months of separation. “But Matt, I don’t want to talk about this when we’ve been- ”   
  
“I know, I know,” he sighs softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. His eyes fill with tears when he opens them again, and he licks his lips. “I love you more than anything, Alex. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”   
  
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, too.” She says quietly, her arms wrapping around his back.   
  
They stay like that, hugging each other tightly in silence until the chill of the night air gets too much for them, and he suggests that they go back to the party.   
  
“Wait,” she says quietly, rummaging around in her purse and pulling out a small bag of her own. “I got something for you.”   
  
He smiles delightedly at her, opening the bag and teasing her playfully as he says, “I thought we weren’t doing presents this year.”    
  
She smiles a little, shrugging as she watches him tear the wrapping paper like a kid on Christmas. “Well, I know you always say that, but you always get stuff for me anyway. So I thought I’d just return the favour. Do you like it?”   
  
He stares at the picture frame in his hands, letting a wide smile take over his face as he examines the wedding picture that he last saw in her wallet, old and torn and tattered. This copy is new, shiny and framed, the colours not yet faded.    
  
“I love it,” he says quietly, his throat a little clogged. He doesn’t take his eyes off the picture, marveling over how happy they looked that day. He can’t remember every detail of his wedding day but he sure can remember how happy he was to finally be married to her. He remembers only excitement and joy and love, and as he looks up at Alex, he knows none of that has changed - he still feels all of that, multiplied by a thousand with every passing day that he spends with her. “I love you.”   
  
“I love you too,” she whispers softly, clearing her throat. Her eyes soften at the way he looks at their wedding picture, the way he strokes his fingers over their smiling faces as gently as possible as a fond smile lights up his face. She takes one look at that face and knows she can’t keep letting him think that she tore that photo out of anger. It was never about anger. She clears her throat a bit and he looks up, eyebrows raised as he waits for her to speak. She swallows deeply and continues, a little hesitantly, “And I have something to tell you.” She nods at the picture, her fingers reaching out to caress the frame lightly. She doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare down at the photo. “I didn’t - I didn’t tear the picture because I was angry. It was an accident - I was - I’d been crying for a long time and it crumpled in my hand - after a while it got so crumpled that it just - tore - and I couldn’t save it - ”   
  
“Alex,” he breathes, his fingers reaching out to touch hers lightly over the picture.   
  
“I tried taping it together but that didn’t work and I - I couldn’t throw it away so I just - left it as it is - ”   
  
“Alex, it’s okay, sweetheart, I promise.” He says reassuringly, his fingers curling over hers a little tighter. She looks up at him then, eyes sparkling brightly with unshed tears. He gives her a small smile. “It’s okay.”   
  
She nods as he pecks her cheek lightly. “Thank you. For the picture.” He says.   
  
“Since I was the one to tear it...” she shrugs as he places the picture bag in the bag, “Figured it’s only fair that I’ll be the one to replace it.”   
  
“You’re perfect, you know that?” He whispers, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. He buries his face into her hair, inhaling deeply and saying, slightly dreamily, “I don’t know how I got so damn lucky with you.”   
  
“That’s exactly what I think about  _ you _ , darling,” she laughs softly, leaning her head on his shoulder and pressing a soft kiss on his shirt.    
  
But he shakes his head. “I’m not perfect.”   
  
She pauses, raising her head again and meeting his eyes. “No, you’re not,” she agrees finally, tiptoeing to give his lips a light peck. She gives him a small smile, her head tilting as she regards him carefully. “But you’re perfect for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, lovelies! don't forget to leave one last comment for me 😘😘
> 
> Happy 2021!!!


End file.
